Icd 10 foreign body left ear
[The Book of the Chosen] - Chapter Twelve - The Blacksmith's Boy (Part Two)
2023.06.02 17:36 TheScribe_1 [The Book of the Chosen] - Chapter Twelve - The Blacksmith's Boy (Part Two)
Bonus chapter celebration continues. Part 3 at the same time tomorrow.
Previous Chapter - Read 10 weeks ahead on Patreon - Read the story so far on Royal Road
*
Chapter Twelve - The Blacksmith's Boy (Part Two)
‘Grrrn.’
Cal stumbled in the stones, sliding a few paces down the slope. The rocks bit at his boots, and he began to topple forward, but his shoulder thumped into a tree trunk, jarring him to a stop. He hugged it to his chest, panting hard, and stood there for a few moments, surrounded by the silence of the forest. His brow ached from frowning, and his eyes stung with salty tears. But he never slipped. Not ever.
He pulled himself upright on the trunk, shivering. It was cold without his cloak, he noticed now. Cold with winter. There was an ominous dark to the evening sky, clouded with thick banks of shadow, and a distant rumble hummed against the mountainside. A storm was coming, and it would be dark before he made it back to the forge. He cursed under his breath, and set off again through the trees, feet skipping over the stones. The Blacksmith would be…
Hang the Blacksmith. He had stopped him from going to the Old Man. Stopped him from warning him. The cave was still smoking. There had been time. He could have stopped it. Instead, the cave was empty, full of ash, and the Old Man was in the ground. What was left of him. His half-riddled words. His ancient stories. His knowing. Of that, there was nothing. Whispers in the wind. Perhaps it had been nothing, all along.
Cal exhaled. His word was hard as stone, now. The ache of waiting was gone. Only the word was left.
He gritted his teeth, shaking his head. The Blacksmith was only protecting him. What could he have done, that a Greycloak couldn’t? The man was old, but he knew these hills almost better than Cal did. There wouldn’t have been anything he could have done. He’d have burned with him.
Thunder cracked, closer this time, and Cal was scowling. He could have warned him. Before. There had been time. He could have fled. The clouds overhead had taken on a faint purplish hue, drinking the last light of the day. The darkness was deepening, and he was still far from home. But the anger was hot in his chest, and his tears were spent.
Asking after that Greycloak fellow.
The Blacksmith had stopped him, but he didn’t light the fire. He had not killed him. The Innkeep’s words echoed in his ears, vibrating like a distant bell. Strangers had come asking. Strangers from the lowlands. And the cave had burned.
His breath was thick and hot in his breast. Cold air raw against his spent throat. The salt of his tears cracked on his cheeks, and his empty belly was a lead ball in his gut. The narrow pines rushed past him like blades, blurring into a patchwork of slashed shadows, and his feet beat against the silence, crunching in the shale and loam. There’d be time for thinking, later. Time for figuring out what to do next. Once he was warm beside a fire, and the storm was spent.
He blinked. He squinted into the gathering dark. Something was moving. Moving in the shifting trees. Off across the slope to the north. Nothing much, mind, but any moving up this far from the village was unusual. The hunters said that wolves roamed this high in the hills, sometimes. The hungry kind, the kind that find no food on the lower slopes, that come wild-eyed and desperate to the rock and shale. Not that Cal had ever seen one, but he slowed his pace all the same, suddenly very aware of the sound of his footsteps. His breath. He stared off along the slope, tracing the swaying trees. Nothing else stirred. Nothing but him. His mind was playing tricks. He took another step…
… and stopped dead again. There it was. Away to his right. North. He couldn’tt have imagined it, this time. Something darker than the trees. He turned slowly, blinking at the creeping gloom. The silence clawed at his ears, and his breath rattled in his raw lungs. Nothing but the rumble of the clouds. Nothing but…
Footsteps. And not his own. There were shadows moving through the trees, coming closer. Shadows in black. His breath caught in his throat, and a shiver ran up his spine. One. Two. He tried to count them all, and failed. Not wolves. Something else. Something that didn’t belong.
He was already running again, all thoughts of the Blacksmith and the Old Man’s grave gone in a flash. He knew the way. It didn’t matter who the shadows were. What they were. No one could catch him in the hills. Not even shadows. His boots skimmed over the stones, cold forgotten. The wind rushed past his face, and the clouds cracked and beat against the blackened sky. The storm was almost on him. He could feel the shadows moving, closer, hear the footsteps thudding in the heavy quiet of the air. They were on both sides of him now, darting between the trees, silently clawing at his heels. They. Who were they? He wasn’t going to wait to find out.
He looked ahead. The telltale line of his path arched north and west across the slope, a soft string of pale stones in the dark. His eyes flicked towards the shadows, spilling like clouds through the trees behind him. A stone's throw, two, maybe less. But close, now. Close enough to see them. Black shapes, swarming over the stones. Clawing at the dark. His head ached, and his eyes blurred. He couldn’t see their faces, but it didn’t matter. They meant no good. There was something cold in his empty gut, dragging it into his heels. Time to move.
He looked back to the path. There, he knew his way, but they were too close. Instead, he turned west, looking straight down the slope. The village would not be far, that way. He fancied he could see the lights blinking through the trees. But it was too steep. Far too steep.
He looked back over his shoulder again. The shadows were coming closer, footsteps pounding like drums, faceless and dark. Whoever they were, they’d followed him. They had been there. Must have been watching the old man’s cave. Waiting for someone to come looking for him. Waiting to finish the job. Cal cursed silently. Careless.
The thunder cracked, overhead now, and lightning forked across the roiling sky with a flash. Faceless figures leered back at him in the dark, frozen like ice, and tore his eyes away, heart pounding in his chest. Don’t think. No time. He looked back down the slope. It was too steep. But there was no other way.
So he took one last deep breath, and started forward, plunging headlong down the bank. The dark rushed past him in blurring streaks, purple light bleeding through the clouds. He could barely see the way, staggering, stumbling, sliding, half-blind and weary to the bone, breath clawing at his throat. The shadows were at his back, surging over the rocks like a black tide. His heart beat to the rhythm of their footsteps, pounding in his chest. He forced himself not to look back. Lightning flashed. A tree loomed suddenly out of the searing white before him, and he fell clumsily around it, catching his shoulder with a jolt as he staggered past. Wind screeched through the silence of the trees, and rain speared down out of the broken sky, filling the air with sound. But he could still hear the footsteps. Close now. Almost at his heels, snatching at him. The slope was slick with water, and the wind bit at his frigid skin. Still they came on. Closer. His head ached, and his lungs were hot as forge-fire.
Then the air cracked, split, boomed, and the hillside shook as lightning slashed white fire across the sky. One of the trees beside him exploded in a hail of sparks, and he whirled away, skidding madly across the loam. The shadows fell away for a moment, and he stumbled on, weary and numb, frenzied heart driving him onward. Downward. Faster, faster. He blinked rain from his eyes, squinting. They were there, just ahead of him. The lights of the village, blinking back at him through the thinning trees. Just a few more steps…
Something hard caught his boot, and he tipped forward, suddenly off balance. A moment froze on his lips, and the trees were still, full of motionless shadows.
Then he was falling, tumbling head over heel, down, up, down, up, wild as wind. His world spun, and stones bit at his arms, his legs. His face. The shadows were almost on him. Faceless shapes spun past him as he fell, black as night, frozen and sightless. His head was bursting. His skin was on fire. Thunder crashed above the trees, and his world turned white. He closed his eyes, throwing out his arms to stop himself.
And took nothing but air. The scratching claws of the trees vanished. A moment, suspended, floating. The storm was far away. There was light in his eyes. Flickering…
His world lurched to a sudden, angry halt. The soaked earth crunched, and he went limp, shoulders crashing into his chest. Pain erupted down his spine, and a gargled breath caught in his wretched throat, choking the air from his lungs. The sound of thunder filled his ears again, and the wind slashed at him like a whip. He groaned, trying to untangle his legs, blinking at the water in his eyes, stinging, blurring. The lights of the village winked back at him, lanterns swinging wildly in the wind. He had made it. But the trees behind him were thrashing in the gale, and there were shadows moving through the boughs. Closer. They were coming. Coming for him.
He rolled onto his front, spasming like a beached fish. Lines of pain scored every inch of his arms and legs, and his shirt was ragged as willow leaves. He gritted his teeth, somehow getting his hands beneath him. He had to move. He heaved, almost screamed as his chest left the dirt. Spit turned sour, eyes blurred.
But then he was up. He was up, and he was moving, shambling grotesquely across the open ground. Towards the lights. They would help him. Footsteps. He could hear them. Footsteps on the stones. The storm roared overhead, thundering, stabbing, flashing fire across the sky. He stumbled, lurching like a cripple, back a rod of fire. The lights swayed, the wind howled, and the footsteps beat like drums at his back. He was working the latch, fingers scrabbling at the wood, breath ragged, heart pounding…
Then the door fell away, and he spilled helplessly into the light beyond. He slumped to his knees, staring wildly into the blinding gleam, and the villagers stared back at him dumbly, slack-jawed, mugs slipping from their fingers.
‘Makers be good.’ Someone murmured.
The floor rose up to meet him, and his eyes went slack.
submitted by TheScribe_1 to redditserials [link] [comments]
Previous Chapter - Read 10 weeks ahead on Patreon - Read the story so far on Royal Road
*
Chapter Twelve - The Blacksmith's Boy (Part Two)
‘Grrrn.’
Cal stumbled in the stones, sliding a few paces down the slope. The rocks bit at his boots, and he began to topple forward, but his shoulder thumped into a tree trunk, jarring him to a stop. He hugged it to his chest, panting hard, and stood there for a few moments, surrounded by the silence of the forest. His brow ached from frowning, and his eyes stung with salty tears. But he never slipped. Not ever.
He pulled himself upright on the trunk, shivering. It was cold without his cloak, he noticed now. Cold with winter. There was an ominous dark to the evening sky, clouded with thick banks of shadow, and a distant rumble hummed against the mountainside. A storm was coming, and it would be dark before he made it back to the forge. He cursed under his breath, and set off again through the trees, feet skipping over the stones. The Blacksmith would be…
Hang the Blacksmith. He had stopped him from going to the Old Man. Stopped him from warning him. The cave was still smoking. There had been time. He could have stopped it. Instead, the cave was empty, full of ash, and the Old Man was in the ground. What was left of him. His half-riddled words. His ancient stories. His knowing. Of that, there was nothing. Whispers in the wind. Perhaps it had been nothing, all along.
Cal exhaled. His word was hard as stone, now. The ache of waiting was gone. Only the word was left.
He gritted his teeth, shaking his head. The Blacksmith was only protecting him. What could he have done, that a Greycloak couldn’t? The man was old, but he knew these hills almost better than Cal did. There wouldn’t have been anything he could have done. He’d have burned with him.
Thunder cracked, closer this time, and Cal was scowling. He could have warned him. Before. There had been time. He could have fled. The clouds overhead had taken on a faint purplish hue, drinking the last light of the day. The darkness was deepening, and he was still far from home. But the anger was hot in his chest, and his tears were spent.
Asking after that Greycloak fellow.
The Blacksmith had stopped him, but he didn’t light the fire. He had not killed him. The Innkeep’s words echoed in his ears, vibrating like a distant bell. Strangers had come asking. Strangers from the lowlands. And the cave had burned.
His breath was thick and hot in his breast. Cold air raw against his spent throat. The salt of his tears cracked on his cheeks, and his empty belly was a lead ball in his gut. The narrow pines rushed past him like blades, blurring into a patchwork of slashed shadows, and his feet beat against the silence, crunching in the shale and loam. There’d be time for thinking, later. Time for figuring out what to do next. Once he was warm beside a fire, and the storm was spent.
He blinked. He squinted into the gathering dark. Something was moving. Moving in the shifting trees. Off across the slope to the north. Nothing much, mind, but any moving up this far from the village was unusual. The hunters said that wolves roamed this high in the hills, sometimes. The hungry kind, the kind that find no food on the lower slopes, that come wild-eyed and desperate to the rock and shale. Not that Cal had ever seen one, but he slowed his pace all the same, suddenly very aware of the sound of his footsteps. His breath. He stared off along the slope, tracing the swaying trees. Nothing else stirred. Nothing but him. His mind was playing tricks. He took another step…
… and stopped dead again. There it was. Away to his right. North. He couldn’tt have imagined it, this time. Something darker than the trees. He turned slowly, blinking at the creeping gloom. The silence clawed at his ears, and his breath rattled in his raw lungs. Nothing but the rumble of the clouds. Nothing but…
Footsteps. And not his own. There were shadows moving through the trees, coming closer. Shadows in black. His breath caught in his throat, and a shiver ran up his spine. One. Two. He tried to count them all, and failed. Not wolves. Something else. Something that didn’t belong.
He was already running again, all thoughts of the Blacksmith and the Old Man’s grave gone in a flash. He knew the way. It didn’t matter who the shadows were. What they were. No one could catch him in the hills. Not even shadows. His boots skimmed over the stones, cold forgotten. The wind rushed past his face, and the clouds cracked and beat against the blackened sky. The storm was almost on him. He could feel the shadows moving, closer, hear the footsteps thudding in the heavy quiet of the air. They were on both sides of him now, darting between the trees, silently clawing at his heels. They. Who were they? He wasn’t going to wait to find out.
He looked ahead. The telltale line of his path arched north and west across the slope, a soft string of pale stones in the dark. His eyes flicked towards the shadows, spilling like clouds through the trees behind him. A stone's throw, two, maybe less. But close, now. Close enough to see them. Black shapes, swarming over the stones. Clawing at the dark. His head ached, and his eyes blurred. He couldn’t see their faces, but it didn’t matter. They meant no good. There was something cold in his empty gut, dragging it into his heels. Time to move.
He looked back to the path. There, he knew his way, but they were too close. Instead, he turned west, looking straight down the slope. The village would not be far, that way. He fancied he could see the lights blinking through the trees. But it was too steep. Far too steep.
He looked back over his shoulder again. The shadows were coming closer, footsteps pounding like drums, faceless and dark. Whoever they were, they’d followed him. They had been there. Must have been watching the old man’s cave. Waiting for someone to come looking for him. Waiting to finish the job. Cal cursed silently. Careless.
The thunder cracked, overhead now, and lightning forked across the roiling sky with a flash. Faceless figures leered back at him in the dark, frozen like ice, and tore his eyes away, heart pounding in his chest. Don’t think. No time. He looked back down the slope. It was too steep. But there was no other way.
So he took one last deep breath, and started forward, plunging headlong down the bank. The dark rushed past him in blurring streaks, purple light bleeding through the clouds. He could barely see the way, staggering, stumbling, sliding, half-blind and weary to the bone, breath clawing at his throat. The shadows were at his back, surging over the rocks like a black tide. His heart beat to the rhythm of their footsteps, pounding in his chest. He forced himself not to look back. Lightning flashed. A tree loomed suddenly out of the searing white before him, and he fell clumsily around it, catching his shoulder with a jolt as he staggered past. Wind screeched through the silence of the trees, and rain speared down out of the broken sky, filling the air with sound. But he could still hear the footsteps. Close now. Almost at his heels, snatching at him. The slope was slick with water, and the wind bit at his frigid skin. Still they came on. Closer. His head ached, and his lungs were hot as forge-fire.
Then the air cracked, split, boomed, and the hillside shook as lightning slashed white fire across the sky. One of the trees beside him exploded in a hail of sparks, and he whirled away, skidding madly across the loam. The shadows fell away for a moment, and he stumbled on, weary and numb, frenzied heart driving him onward. Downward. Faster, faster. He blinked rain from his eyes, squinting. They were there, just ahead of him. The lights of the village, blinking back at him through the thinning trees. Just a few more steps…
Something hard caught his boot, and he tipped forward, suddenly off balance. A moment froze on his lips, and the trees were still, full of motionless shadows.
Then he was falling, tumbling head over heel, down, up, down, up, wild as wind. His world spun, and stones bit at his arms, his legs. His face. The shadows were almost on him. Faceless shapes spun past him as he fell, black as night, frozen and sightless. His head was bursting. His skin was on fire. Thunder crashed above the trees, and his world turned white. He closed his eyes, throwing out his arms to stop himself.
And took nothing but air. The scratching claws of the trees vanished. A moment, suspended, floating. The storm was far away. There was light in his eyes. Flickering…
His world lurched to a sudden, angry halt. The soaked earth crunched, and he went limp, shoulders crashing into his chest. Pain erupted down his spine, and a gargled breath caught in his wretched throat, choking the air from his lungs. The sound of thunder filled his ears again, and the wind slashed at him like a whip. He groaned, trying to untangle his legs, blinking at the water in his eyes, stinging, blurring. The lights of the village winked back at him, lanterns swinging wildly in the wind. He had made it. But the trees behind him were thrashing in the gale, and there were shadows moving through the boughs. Closer. They were coming. Coming for him.
He rolled onto his front, spasming like a beached fish. Lines of pain scored every inch of his arms and legs, and his shirt was ragged as willow leaves. He gritted his teeth, somehow getting his hands beneath him. He had to move. He heaved, almost screamed as his chest left the dirt. Spit turned sour, eyes blurred.
But then he was up. He was up, and he was moving, shambling grotesquely across the open ground. Towards the lights. They would help him. Footsteps. He could hear them. Footsteps on the stones. The storm roared overhead, thundering, stabbing, flashing fire across the sky. He stumbled, lurching like a cripple, back a rod of fire. The lights swayed, the wind howled, and the footsteps beat like drums at his back. He was working the latch, fingers scrabbling at the wood, breath ragged, heart pounding…
Then the door fell away, and he spilled helplessly into the light beyond. He slumped to his knees, staring wildly into the blinding gleam, and the villagers stared back at him dumbly, slack-jawed, mugs slipping from their fingers.
‘Makers be good.’ Someone murmured.
The floor rose up to meet him, and his eyes went slack.
2023.06.02 17:35 iced1777 Not Quite Highlights vs. Miami
With the team coming off of another cross-country flight for another midweek game, Lesesne sent them out in a 4-2-2-2 and considerably took their foot off the pressing pedal. Combined with some tired legs that left them a little more stretched back to front than usual, we got one of the most open-ended games that I can remember the Red Bulls playing in years. Nerve racking at times, but entertaining nonetheless!
No More Mr. Nice Guy (please...)
Miami created a handful of dangerous chances in the first half by going around or over the 4-2-2-2's compact midfield and finding their strikers (mostly Martinez) in the space between our CBs and CMs. You can see a nearly identical CB to LB to ST passing sequence a few times there.
Its usually a priority for the Red Bulls to make sure anyone receiving the ball in that area gets a body on them asap, even if it means taking a foul. But they were way, way too generous in the time and space they gave Martinez in particular. He may have lost a step, but he's still a dangerous player. For comparison, here's how they treated Charlotte's striker, Copetti, earlier this season when he tried to make similar plays.
I loved the halftime adjustments the Red Bulls made here though. They picked up the pressure on Miami's backline for the first ~10-15 minutes of the half, frazzling their inexperienced team, then sat deep and compact after the goal to put our CBs in better 1v1 situations.
Welcome back Luqui!
The flip side of allowing such a stretched field is that we got to put our best dribbler, Luquinhas, in acres of space to do what he does best. Amaya, Stroud, and CCJ do a great job on so many of these plays quickly turning up field and finding Luquinhas. The chance in the 21st minute especially was a perfect example of how the team can be quick and direct while still keeping the ball on the ground.
Other Odds and Ends
Stroud pulls shows amazing coordination as he raises his arm to plead his innocence *as he's fouling the opposing player*. And it worked, he wasn't called!
Another shout out to Stroud for deciding in the 89th minute to launch on an 80 yard sprint
Tolkin went full airbender with this cross, shame it didn't end up being an assist
This is probably the dullest "not quite highlight" yet, but I have not seen the team pass it out of the back like this since the days of Hans Backe. That's 14, 15 passes before even attempting to play it out of our half?
submitted by iced1777 to rbny [link] [comments]
No More Mr. Nice Guy (please...)
Miami created a handful of dangerous chances in the first half by going around or over the 4-2-2-2's compact midfield and finding their strikers (mostly Martinez) in the space between our CBs and CMs. You can see a nearly identical CB to LB to ST passing sequence a few times there.
Its usually a priority for the Red Bulls to make sure anyone receiving the ball in that area gets a body on them asap, even if it means taking a foul. But they were way, way too generous in the time and space they gave Martinez in particular. He may have lost a step, but he's still a dangerous player. For comparison, here's how they treated Charlotte's striker, Copetti, earlier this season when he tried to make similar plays.
I loved the halftime adjustments the Red Bulls made here though. They picked up the pressure on Miami's backline for the first ~10-15 minutes of the half, frazzling their inexperienced team, then sat deep and compact after the goal to put our CBs in better 1v1 situations.
Welcome back Luqui!
The flip side of allowing such a stretched field is that we got to put our best dribbler, Luquinhas, in acres of space to do what he does best. Amaya, Stroud, and CCJ do a great job on so many of these plays quickly turning up field and finding Luquinhas. The chance in the 21st minute especially was a perfect example of how the team can be quick and direct while still keeping the ball on the ground.
Other Odds and Ends
Stroud pulls shows amazing coordination as he raises his arm to plead his innocence *as he's fouling the opposing player*. And it worked, he wasn't called!
Another shout out to Stroud for deciding in the 89th minute to launch on an 80 yard sprint
Tolkin went full airbender with this cross, shame it didn't end up being an assist
This is probably the dullest "not quite highlight" yet, but I have not seen the team pass it out of the back like this since the days of Hans Backe. That's 14, 15 passes before even attempting to play it out of our half?
2023.06.02 17:35 TheScribe_1 [The Book of the Chosen] - Chapter Twelve - The Blacksmith's Boy (Part Two)
Bonus chapter celebration continues. Part 3 at the same time tomorrow. Series Page - Read 10 weeks ahead on Patreon - Read the story so far on Royal Road * Chapter Twelve - The Blacksmith's Boy (Part Two)
‘Grrrn.’ Cal stumbled in the stones, sliding a few paces down the slope. The rocks bit at his boots, and he began to topple forward, but his shoulder thumped into a tree trunk, jarring him to a stop. He hugged it to his chest, panting hard, and stood there for a few moments, sur-rounded by the silence of the forest. His brow ached from frowning, and his eyes stung with salty tears. But he never slipped. Not ever. He pulled himself upright on the trunk, shivering. It was cold without his cloak, he noticed now. Cold with winter. There was an ominous dark to the evening sky, clouded with thick banks of shad-ow, and a distant rumble hummed against the mountainside. A storm was coming, and it would be dark before he made it back to the forge. He cursed under his breath, and set off again through the trees, feet skipping over the stones. The Blacksmith would be… Hang the Blacksmith. He had stopped him from going to the Old Man. Stopped him from warning him. The cave was still smoking. There had been time. He could have stopped it. Instead, the cave was empty, full of ash, and the Old Man was in the ground. What was left of him. His half-riddled words. His ancient stories. His knowing. Of that, there was nothing. Whispers in the wind. Perhaps it had been nothing, all along. Cal exhaled. His word was hard as stone, now. The ache of wait-ing was gone. Only the word was left. He gritted his teeth, shaking his head. The Blacksmith was only protecting him. What could he have done, that a Greycloak couldn’t? The man was old, but he knew these hills almost better than Cal did. There wouldn’t have been anything he could have done. He’d have burned with him. Thunder cracked, closer this time, and Cal was scowling. He could have warned him. Before. There had been time. He could have fled. The clouds overhead had taken on a faint purplish hue, drink-ing the last light of the day. The darkness was deepening, and he was still far from home. But the anger was hot in his chest, and his tears were spent. Asking after that Greycloak fellow. The Blacksmith had stopped him, but he didn’t light the fire. He had not killed him. The Innkeep’s words echoed in his ears, vibrat-ing like a distant bell. Strangers had come asking. Strangers from the lowlands. And the cave had burned. His breath was thick and hot in his breast. Cold air raw against his spent throat. The salt of his tears cracked on his cheeks, and his empty belly was a lead ball in his gut. The narrow pines rushed past him like blades, blurring into a patchwork of slashed shadows, and his feet beat against the silence, crunching in the shale and loam. There’d be time for thinking, later. Time for figuring out what to do next. Once he was warm beside a fire, and the storm was spent. He blinked. He squinted into the gathering dark. Something was moving. Moving in the shifting trees. Off across the slope to the north. Nothing much, mind, but any moving up this far from the vil-lage was unusual. The hunters said that wolves roamed this high in the hills, sometimes. The hungry kind, the kind that find no food on the lower slopes, that come wild-eyed and desperate to the rock and shale. Not that Cal had ever seen one, but he slowed his pace all the same, suddenly very aware of the sound of his footsteps. His breath. He stared off along the slope, tracing the swaying trees. Nothing else stirred. Nothing but him. His mind was playing tricks. He took an-other step… … and stopped dead again. There it was. Away to his right. North. He couldn’tt have imagined it, this time. Something darker than the trees. He turned slowly, blinking at the creeping gloom. The silence clawed at his ears, and his breath rattled in his raw lungs. Nothing but the rumble of the clouds. Nothing but… Footsteps. And not his own. There were shadows moving through the trees, coming closer. Shadows in black. His breath caught in his throat, and a shiver ran up his spine. One. Two. He tried to count them all, and failed. Not wolves. Something else. Something that didn’t belong. He was already running again, all thoughts of the Blacksmith and the Old Man’s grave gone in a flash. He knew the way. It didn’t matter who the shadows were. What they were. No one could catch him in the hills. Not even shadows. His boots skimmed over the stones, cold forgotten. The wind rushed past his face, and the clouds cracked and beat against the blackened sky. The storm was almost on him. He could feel the shadows moving, closer, hear the foot-steps thudding in the heavy quiet of the air. They were on both sides of him now, darting between the trees, silently clawing at his heels. They. Who were they? He wasn’t going to wait to find out. He looked ahead. The telltale line of his path arched north and west across the slope, a soft string of pale stones in the dark. His eyes flicked towards the shadows, spilling like clouds through the trees behind him. A stone's throw, two, maybe less. But close, now. Close enough to see them. Black shapes, swarming over the stones. Clawing at the dark. His head ached, and his eyes blurred. He couldn’t see their faces, but it didn’t matter. They meant no good. There was something cold in his empty gut, dragging it into his heels. Time to move. He looked back to the path. There, he knew his way, but they were too close. Instead, he turned west, looking straight down the slope. The village would not be far, that way. He fancied he could see the lights blinking through the trees. But it was too steep. Far too steep. He looked back over his shoulder again. The shadows were com-ing closer, footsteps pounding like drums, faceless and dark. Who-ever they were, they’d followed him. They had been there. Must have been watching the old man’s cave. Waiting for someone to come looking for him. Waiting to finish the job. Cal cursed silently. Careless. The thunder cracked, overhead now, and lightning forked across the roiling sky with a flash. Faceless figures leered back at him in the dark, frozen like ice, and tore his eyes away, heart pounding in his chest. Don’t think. No time. He looked back down the slope. It was too steep. But there was no other way. So he took one last deep breath, and started forward, plunging headlong down the bank. The dark rushed past him in blurring streaks, purple light bleeding through the clouds. He could barely see the way, staggering, stumbling, sliding, half-blind and weary to the bone, breath clawing at his throat. The shadows were at his back, surging over the rocks like a black tide. His heart beat to the rhythm of their footsteps, pounding in his chest. He forced himself not to look back. Lightning flashed. A tree loomed suddenly out of the searing white before him, and he fell clumsily around it, catching his shoulder with a jolt as he staggered past. Wind screeched through the silence of the trees, and rain speared down out of the broken sky, filling the air with sound. But he could still hear the footsteps. Close now. Almost at his heels, snatching at him. The slope was slick with water, and the wind bit at his frigid skin. Still they came on. Closer. His head ached, and his lungs were hot as forge-fire. Then the air cracked, split, boomed, and the hillside shook as lightning slashed white fire across the sky. One of the trees beside him exploded in a hail of sparks, and he whirled away, skidding madly across the loam. The shadows fell away for a moment, and he stumbled on, weary and numb, frenzied heart driving him onward. Downward. Faster, faster. He blinked rain from his eyes, squinting. They were there, just ahead of him. The lights of the village, blink-ing back at him through the thinning trees. Just a few more steps… Something hard caught his boot, and he tipped forward, suddenly off balance. A moment froze on his lips, and the trees were still, full of motionless shadows. Then he was falling, tumbling head over heel, down, up, down, up, wild as wind. His world spun, and stones bit at his arms, his legs. His face. The shadows were almost on him. Faceless shapes spun past him as he fell, black as night, frozen and sightless. His head was bursting. His skin was on fire. Thunder crashed above the trees, and his world turned white. He closed his eyes, throwing out his arms to stop himself. And took nothing but air. The scratching claws of the trees van-ished. A moment, suspended, floating. The storm was far away. There was light in his eyes. Flickering… His world lurched to a sudden, angry halt. The soaked earth crunched, and he went limp, shoulders crashing into his chest. Pain erupted down his spine, and a gargled breath caught in his wretched throat, choking the air from his lungs. The sound of thunder filled his ears again, and the wind slashed at him like a whip. He groaned, trying to untangle his legs, blinking at the water in his eyes, stinging, blurring. The lights of the village winked back at him, lanterns swinging wildly in the wind. He had made it. But the trees behind him were thrashing in the gale, and there were shadows moving through the boughs. Closer. They were coming. Coming for him. He rolled onto his front, spasming like a beached fish. Lines of pain scored every inch of his arms and legs, and his shirt was ragged as willow leaves. He gritted his teeth, somehow getting his hands beneath him. He had to move. He heaved, almost screamed as his chest left the dirt. Spit turned sour, eyes blurred. But then he was up. He was up, and he was moving, shambling grotesquely across the open ground. Towards the lights. They would help him. Footsteps. He could hear them. Footsteps on the stones. The storm roared overhead, thundering, stabbing, flashing fire across the sky. He stumbled, lurching like a cripple, back a rod of fire. The lights swayed, the wind howled, and the footsteps beat like drums at his back. He was working the latch, fingers scrabbling at the wood, breath ragged, heart pounding… Then the door fell away, and he spilled helplessly into the light beyond. He slumped to his knees, staring wildly into the blinding gleam, and the villagers stared back at him dumbly, slack-jawed, mugs slipping from their fingers. ‘Makers be good.’ Someone murmured. The floor rose up to meet him, and his eyes went slack.
submitted by TheScribe_1 to HFY [link] [comments]
‘Grrrn.’ Cal stumbled in the stones, sliding a few paces down the slope. The rocks bit at his boots, and he began to topple forward, but his shoulder thumped into a tree trunk, jarring him to a stop. He hugged it to his chest, panting hard, and stood there for a few moments, sur-rounded by the silence of the forest. His brow ached from frowning, and his eyes stung with salty tears. But he never slipped. Not ever. He pulled himself upright on the trunk, shivering. It was cold without his cloak, he noticed now. Cold with winter. There was an ominous dark to the evening sky, clouded with thick banks of shad-ow, and a distant rumble hummed against the mountainside. A storm was coming, and it would be dark before he made it back to the forge. He cursed under his breath, and set off again through the trees, feet skipping over the stones. The Blacksmith would be… Hang the Blacksmith. He had stopped him from going to the Old Man. Stopped him from warning him. The cave was still smoking. There had been time. He could have stopped it. Instead, the cave was empty, full of ash, and the Old Man was in the ground. What was left of him. His half-riddled words. His ancient stories. His knowing. Of that, there was nothing. Whispers in the wind. Perhaps it had been nothing, all along. Cal exhaled. His word was hard as stone, now. The ache of wait-ing was gone. Only the word was left. He gritted his teeth, shaking his head. The Blacksmith was only protecting him. What could he have done, that a Greycloak couldn’t? The man was old, but he knew these hills almost better than Cal did. There wouldn’t have been anything he could have done. He’d have burned with him. Thunder cracked, closer this time, and Cal was scowling. He could have warned him. Before. There had been time. He could have fled. The clouds overhead had taken on a faint purplish hue, drink-ing the last light of the day. The darkness was deepening, and he was still far from home. But the anger was hot in his chest, and his tears were spent. Asking after that Greycloak fellow. The Blacksmith had stopped him, but he didn’t light the fire. He had not killed him. The Innkeep’s words echoed in his ears, vibrat-ing like a distant bell. Strangers had come asking. Strangers from the lowlands. And the cave had burned. His breath was thick and hot in his breast. Cold air raw against his spent throat. The salt of his tears cracked on his cheeks, and his empty belly was a lead ball in his gut. The narrow pines rushed past him like blades, blurring into a patchwork of slashed shadows, and his feet beat against the silence, crunching in the shale and loam. There’d be time for thinking, later. Time for figuring out what to do next. Once he was warm beside a fire, and the storm was spent. He blinked. He squinted into the gathering dark. Something was moving. Moving in the shifting trees. Off across the slope to the north. Nothing much, mind, but any moving up this far from the vil-lage was unusual. The hunters said that wolves roamed this high in the hills, sometimes. The hungry kind, the kind that find no food on the lower slopes, that come wild-eyed and desperate to the rock and shale. Not that Cal had ever seen one, but he slowed his pace all the same, suddenly very aware of the sound of his footsteps. His breath. He stared off along the slope, tracing the swaying trees. Nothing else stirred. Nothing but him. His mind was playing tricks. He took an-other step… … and stopped dead again. There it was. Away to his right. North. He couldn’tt have imagined it, this time. Something darker than the trees. He turned slowly, blinking at the creeping gloom. The silence clawed at his ears, and his breath rattled in his raw lungs. Nothing but the rumble of the clouds. Nothing but… Footsteps. And not his own. There were shadows moving through the trees, coming closer. Shadows in black. His breath caught in his throat, and a shiver ran up his spine. One. Two. He tried to count them all, and failed. Not wolves. Something else. Something that didn’t belong. He was already running again, all thoughts of the Blacksmith and the Old Man’s grave gone in a flash. He knew the way. It didn’t matter who the shadows were. What they were. No one could catch him in the hills. Not even shadows. His boots skimmed over the stones, cold forgotten. The wind rushed past his face, and the clouds cracked and beat against the blackened sky. The storm was almost on him. He could feel the shadows moving, closer, hear the foot-steps thudding in the heavy quiet of the air. They were on both sides of him now, darting between the trees, silently clawing at his heels. They. Who were they? He wasn’t going to wait to find out. He looked ahead. The telltale line of his path arched north and west across the slope, a soft string of pale stones in the dark. His eyes flicked towards the shadows, spilling like clouds through the trees behind him. A stone's throw, two, maybe less. But close, now. Close enough to see them. Black shapes, swarming over the stones. Clawing at the dark. His head ached, and his eyes blurred. He couldn’t see their faces, but it didn’t matter. They meant no good. There was something cold in his empty gut, dragging it into his heels. Time to move. He looked back to the path. There, he knew his way, but they were too close. Instead, he turned west, looking straight down the slope. The village would not be far, that way. He fancied he could see the lights blinking through the trees. But it was too steep. Far too steep. He looked back over his shoulder again. The shadows were com-ing closer, footsteps pounding like drums, faceless and dark. Who-ever they were, they’d followed him. They had been there. Must have been watching the old man’s cave. Waiting for someone to come looking for him. Waiting to finish the job. Cal cursed silently. Careless. The thunder cracked, overhead now, and lightning forked across the roiling sky with a flash. Faceless figures leered back at him in the dark, frozen like ice, and tore his eyes away, heart pounding in his chest. Don’t think. No time. He looked back down the slope. It was too steep. But there was no other way. So he took one last deep breath, and started forward, plunging headlong down the bank. The dark rushed past him in blurring streaks, purple light bleeding through the clouds. He could barely see the way, staggering, stumbling, sliding, half-blind and weary to the bone, breath clawing at his throat. The shadows were at his back, surging over the rocks like a black tide. His heart beat to the rhythm of their footsteps, pounding in his chest. He forced himself not to look back. Lightning flashed. A tree loomed suddenly out of the searing white before him, and he fell clumsily around it, catching his shoulder with a jolt as he staggered past. Wind screeched through the silence of the trees, and rain speared down out of the broken sky, filling the air with sound. But he could still hear the footsteps. Close now. Almost at his heels, snatching at him. The slope was slick with water, and the wind bit at his frigid skin. Still they came on. Closer. His head ached, and his lungs were hot as forge-fire. Then the air cracked, split, boomed, and the hillside shook as lightning slashed white fire across the sky. One of the trees beside him exploded in a hail of sparks, and he whirled away, skidding madly across the loam. The shadows fell away for a moment, and he stumbled on, weary and numb, frenzied heart driving him onward. Downward. Faster, faster. He blinked rain from his eyes, squinting. They were there, just ahead of him. The lights of the village, blink-ing back at him through the thinning trees. Just a few more steps… Something hard caught his boot, and he tipped forward, suddenly off balance. A moment froze on his lips, and the trees were still, full of motionless shadows. Then he was falling, tumbling head over heel, down, up, down, up, wild as wind. His world spun, and stones bit at his arms, his legs. His face. The shadows were almost on him. Faceless shapes spun past him as he fell, black as night, frozen and sightless. His head was bursting. His skin was on fire. Thunder crashed above the trees, and his world turned white. He closed his eyes, throwing out his arms to stop himself. And took nothing but air. The scratching claws of the trees van-ished. A moment, suspended, floating. The storm was far away. There was light in his eyes. Flickering… His world lurched to a sudden, angry halt. The soaked earth crunched, and he went limp, shoulders crashing into his chest. Pain erupted down his spine, and a gargled breath caught in his wretched throat, choking the air from his lungs. The sound of thunder filled his ears again, and the wind slashed at him like a whip. He groaned, trying to untangle his legs, blinking at the water in his eyes, stinging, blurring. The lights of the village winked back at him, lanterns swinging wildly in the wind. He had made it. But the trees behind him were thrashing in the gale, and there were shadows moving through the boughs. Closer. They were coming. Coming for him. He rolled onto his front, spasming like a beached fish. Lines of pain scored every inch of his arms and legs, and his shirt was ragged as willow leaves. He gritted his teeth, somehow getting his hands beneath him. He had to move. He heaved, almost screamed as his chest left the dirt. Spit turned sour, eyes blurred. But then he was up. He was up, and he was moving, shambling grotesquely across the open ground. Towards the lights. They would help him. Footsteps. He could hear them. Footsteps on the stones. The storm roared overhead, thundering, stabbing, flashing fire across the sky. He stumbled, lurching like a cripple, back a rod of fire. The lights swayed, the wind howled, and the footsteps beat like drums at his back. He was working the latch, fingers scrabbling at the wood, breath ragged, heart pounding… Then the door fell away, and he spilled helplessly into the light beyond. He slumped to his knees, staring wildly into the blinding gleam, and the villagers stared back at him dumbly, slack-jawed, mugs slipping from their fingers. ‘Makers be good.’ Someone murmured. The floor rose up to meet him, and his eyes went slack.
2023.06.02 17:16 chanstraeus My Foster Puppy Just Died and The Guilt is Killing Me
I've heard the saying that grief is just love with nowhere to go. Right now, I'm still in a state of complete shock and I can't look at his empty bed or crate without bursting into tears. Cookie was in my life for 2 weeks and he changed every single part of it. I've been fostering dogs for a couple of months and I had no real intention of bringing any of them into my forever family until Cookie came along.
Cookie was slow to trust, barking at every stranger with his 15 pound body. It took me 20 minutes to wrangle him into the car the first time we met and by the time I made it back to my car, I was hit with an $80 parking ticket. Not a great start to our time together. But by the time we got home, he was happily accepting treats from me and he learned how to sit within the first 2 hours he was home.
Cookie was an old soul in a 10 month body. His favorite thing to do was nap on the couch, yell at anyone walking past my apartment, then return to napping. He steadily rotated from his bed, to his crate, to the sofa but when it came time for his evening walk, his whole body wiggled with joy and his tail spun around like a helicopter. His oversized ears would flop as he bounded ahead of me and he liked to playfully nibble on my neighbors' dogs every time we saw them.
His bark sounded like a demented goose and no one could believe such a little body could create such a noise. He loved eggs more than anything else in this world. We went hiking together, we sat at overpriced coffee shops together, we went to the pet store together, and we napped on the couch together. I loved watching him run around at the dog park and laughed every time every single other dog there was faster than him but he didn't seem to mind that he was the slowest in the pack (he had stubby little legs and an overly long body). He had issues with separation anxiety but I vowed to myself that I loved this little dog so much I was willing to work through anything with him.
In the two weeks I had him, this dog became my whole heart and my boyfriend's whole heart. From his grumpy little schnauzer face to his gentle nose boops, there was nothing I didn't adore about this dog.
At first, I thought it was just kennel cough. We noticed him sniffling but chalked it up to nothing more than a doggy cold. Then, as the days went on, he started to become listless and want to return inside after his potty breaks instead of go on a walk. He started refusing even his favorite treats and one morning, he refused to eat a freshly cooked egg just for him and we knew something was very wrong. As we were waiting to take him to the vet, his head started shaking.
Cookie was in the hospital for 5 nights and at first, it seemed like things might have been getting better. His fever broke and he was eating a little. But today I got the call that he died last night from a seizure. They said it was distemper and I had suspected that was the case but didn't want to believe the worst. My heart aches knowing that he was an owner surrender and I was so thrilled to finally show him what a true, forever home looked like. We took him everywhere with us and showered him with all the love he could ask for. I had no idea that the last time I would see him was when I was dropping him off at the vet and I can't get it out of my head that he probably thought he was being abandoned again and he died without me or my boyfriend there with him.
I don't know where to go from here. I'm tempted to stop fostering even though my family tells me I should continue because I can still make a difference in other dogs' lives. He never even got to meet my family dogs. Hug your pets a little closer today. I don't know when my heart will be ready to accept another dog into our little home and our little family but I know it will always ache a little for my special little Cookie Wookie Dookie. I just want the world to know that he was here, he existed, and he was loved.
submitted by chanstraeus to puppy101 [link] [comments]
Cookie was slow to trust, barking at every stranger with his 15 pound body. It took me 20 minutes to wrangle him into the car the first time we met and by the time I made it back to my car, I was hit with an $80 parking ticket. Not a great start to our time together. But by the time we got home, he was happily accepting treats from me and he learned how to sit within the first 2 hours he was home.
Cookie was an old soul in a 10 month body. His favorite thing to do was nap on the couch, yell at anyone walking past my apartment, then return to napping. He steadily rotated from his bed, to his crate, to the sofa but when it came time for his evening walk, his whole body wiggled with joy and his tail spun around like a helicopter. His oversized ears would flop as he bounded ahead of me and he liked to playfully nibble on my neighbors' dogs every time we saw them.
His bark sounded like a demented goose and no one could believe such a little body could create such a noise. He loved eggs more than anything else in this world. We went hiking together, we sat at overpriced coffee shops together, we went to the pet store together, and we napped on the couch together. I loved watching him run around at the dog park and laughed every time every single other dog there was faster than him but he didn't seem to mind that he was the slowest in the pack (he had stubby little legs and an overly long body). He had issues with separation anxiety but I vowed to myself that I loved this little dog so much I was willing to work through anything with him.
In the two weeks I had him, this dog became my whole heart and my boyfriend's whole heart. From his grumpy little schnauzer face to his gentle nose boops, there was nothing I didn't adore about this dog.
At first, I thought it was just kennel cough. We noticed him sniffling but chalked it up to nothing more than a doggy cold. Then, as the days went on, he started to become listless and want to return inside after his potty breaks instead of go on a walk. He started refusing even his favorite treats and one morning, he refused to eat a freshly cooked egg just for him and we knew something was very wrong. As we were waiting to take him to the vet, his head started shaking.
Cookie was in the hospital for 5 nights and at first, it seemed like things might have been getting better. His fever broke and he was eating a little. But today I got the call that he died last night from a seizure. They said it was distemper and I had suspected that was the case but didn't want to believe the worst. My heart aches knowing that he was an owner surrender and I was so thrilled to finally show him what a true, forever home looked like. We took him everywhere with us and showered him with all the love he could ask for. I had no idea that the last time I would see him was when I was dropping him off at the vet and I can't get it out of my head that he probably thought he was being abandoned again and he died without me or my boyfriend there with him.
I don't know where to go from here. I'm tempted to stop fostering even though my family tells me I should continue because I can still make a difference in other dogs' lives. He never even got to meet my family dogs. Hug your pets a little closer today. I don't know when my heart will be ready to accept another dog into our little home and our little family but I know it will always ache a little for my special little Cookie Wookie Dookie. I just want the world to know that he was here, he existed, and he was loved.
2023.06.02 17:15 chanstraeus My Foster Dog Just Died and The Guilt Is Killing Me
I've heard the saying that grief is just love with nowhere to go. Right now, I'm still in a state of complete shock and I can't look at his empty bed or crate without bursting into tears. Cookie was in my life for 2 weeks and he changed every single part of it. I've been fostering dogs for a couple of months and I had no real intention of bringing any of them into my forever family until Cookie came along. Cookie was slow to trust, barking at every stranger with his 15 pound body. It took me 20 minutes to wrangle him into the car the first time we met and by the time I made it back to my car, I was hit with an $80 parking ticket. Not a great start to our time together. But by the time we got home, he was happily accepting treats from me and he learned how to sit within the first 2 hours he was home.
Cookie was an old soul in a 10 month body. His favorite thing to do was nap on the couch, yell at anyone walking past my apartment, then return to napping. He steadily rotated from his bed, to his crate, to the sofa but when it came time for his evening walk, his whole body wiggled with joy and his tail spun around like a helicopter. His oversized ears would flop as he bounded ahead of me and he liked to playfully nibble on my neighbors' dogs every time we saw them.
His bark sounded like a demented goose and no one could believe such a little body could create such a noise. He loved eggs more than anything else in this world. We went hiking together, we sat at overpriced coffee shops together, we went to the pet store together, and we napped on the couch together. I loved watching him run around at the dog park and laughed every time every single other dog there was faster than him but he didn't seem to mind that he was the slowest in the pack (he had stubby little legs and an overly long body). He had issues with separation anxiety but I vowed to myself that I loved this little dog so much I was willing to work through anything with him.
In the two weeks I had him, this dog became my whole heart and my boyfriend's whole heart. From his grumpy little schnauzer face to his gentle nose boops, there was nothing I didn't adore about this dog.
At first, I thought it was just kennel cough. We noticed him sniffling but chalked it up to nothing more than a doggy cold. Then, as the days went on, he started to become listless and want to return inside after his potty breaks instead of go on a walk. He started refusing even his favorite treats and one morning, he refused to eat a freshly cooked egg just for him and we knew something was very wrong. As we were waiting to take him to the vet, his head started shaking.
Cookie was in the hospital for 5 nights and at first, it seemed like things might have been getting better. His fever broke and he was eating a little. But today I got the call that he died last night from a seizure. They said it was distemper and I had suspected that was the case but didn't want to believe the worst. My heart aches knowing that he was an owner surrender and I was so thrilled to finally show him what a true, forever home looked like. We took him everywhere with us and showered him with all the love he could ask for. I had no idea that the last time I would see him was when I was dropping him off at the vet and I can't get it out of my head that he probably thought he was being abandoned again and he died without me or my boyfriend there with him.
I don't know where to go from here. I'm tempted to stop fostering even though my family tells me I should continue because I can still make a difference in other dogs' lives. He never even got to meet my family dogs. Hug your pets a little closer today. I don't know when my heart will be ready to accept another dog into our little home and our little family but I know it will always ache a little for my special little Cookie Wookie Dookie. I just want the world to know that he was here, he existed, and he was loved.
submitted by chanstraeus to Petloss [link] [comments]
Cookie was an old soul in a 10 month body. His favorite thing to do was nap on the couch, yell at anyone walking past my apartment, then return to napping. He steadily rotated from his bed, to his crate, to the sofa but when it came time for his evening walk, his whole body wiggled with joy and his tail spun around like a helicopter. His oversized ears would flop as he bounded ahead of me and he liked to playfully nibble on my neighbors' dogs every time we saw them.
His bark sounded like a demented goose and no one could believe such a little body could create such a noise. He loved eggs more than anything else in this world. We went hiking together, we sat at overpriced coffee shops together, we went to the pet store together, and we napped on the couch together. I loved watching him run around at the dog park and laughed every time every single other dog there was faster than him but he didn't seem to mind that he was the slowest in the pack (he had stubby little legs and an overly long body). He had issues with separation anxiety but I vowed to myself that I loved this little dog so much I was willing to work through anything with him.
In the two weeks I had him, this dog became my whole heart and my boyfriend's whole heart. From his grumpy little schnauzer face to his gentle nose boops, there was nothing I didn't adore about this dog.
At first, I thought it was just kennel cough. We noticed him sniffling but chalked it up to nothing more than a doggy cold. Then, as the days went on, he started to become listless and want to return inside after his potty breaks instead of go on a walk. He started refusing even his favorite treats and one morning, he refused to eat a freshly cooked egg just for him and we knew something was very wrong. As we were waiting to take him to the vet, his head started shaking.
Cookie was in the hospital for 5 nights and at first, it seemed like things might have been getting better. His fever broke and he was eating a little. But today I got the call that he died last night from a seizure. They said it was distemper and I had suspected that was the case but didn't want to believe the worst. My heart aches knowing that he was an owner surrender and I was so thrilled to finally show him what a true, forever home looked like. We took him everywhere with us and showered him with all the love he could ask for. I had no idea that the last time I would see him was when I was dropping him off at the vet and I can't get it out of my head that he probably thought he was being abandoned again and he died without me or my boyfriend there with him.
I don't know where to go from here. I'm tempted to stop fostering even though my family tells me I should continue because I can still make a difference in other dogs' lives. He never even got to meet my family dogs. Hug your pets a little closer today. I don't know when my heart will be ready to accept another dog into our little home and our little family but I know it will always ache a little for my special little Cookie Wookie Dookie. I just want the world to know that he was here, he existed, and he was loved.
2023.06.02 17:10 r3dsca Obscure subreddit posting - The Branding Issue of Democrats from the 90s to Now
This was posted in the AngryObservation subreddit (that I stumbled on two seconds ago)
Essay posted by u/dcmetro7
https://www.reddit.com/usedcmetro7/
Democrats have a branding problem : AngryObservation (reddit.com)
I was inspired by u/Randomuser1520 's post about the Democratic Party's seemingly weak bench of future potential presidential nominees.
A lot of the problems trace back to 2016, but I'd argue the Democrats' branding woes go back even further. Think all the way back to the last time the Democrats had a consistently strong electoral record as a party -- the 90s, where the only truly bad year for Ds was 1994. Bill Clinton had successfully rebranded the party under the 'Third Way' label that Dems at any level could embrace and benefit from, and he had a clear successor in Al Gore. But Gore loses narrowly in 2000, and the problems for the Dems' brand begin.
'Yes We Can'
After 9/11, the electorate supports Bush and they support war. Dems' brand takes a hit and they lose the 2002 midterms. In 2004, John Kerry is successfully painted as an out-of-touch Ivy League liberal, disengaged from 'real America.' Dems lose and their brand suffers further.
But by the end of Bush's term, most Americans are disillusioned with Dubyaism. They wanted change, and one man promises to lead them to it with posters that proclaim 'HOPE' and cries of 'Yes We Can,' heralding in a new age of politics. Barack Obama and the Democrats are swept into a trifecta in Washington.
And we certainly got a new age of politics. When Obama was inaugurated, pundits speculated about the 'emerging Democratic majority', and how the GOP may literally go extinct in ten years. By the end of Obama's second term, those same pundits are surveying the absolutely decimated state of the Democratic party at all levels of power. Dems had lost the Senate, the House, most governorships, and most state legislatures. Control of the state legislatures makes the GOP's hold on the House even stronger. Control of the Senate effectively leads to control of the Supreme Court.
While Obama certainly can't be blamed for everything the GOP threw at him, I feel like it's safe to say his rebranding of the Democratic party failed in the long run. The 'Party of Hope' was sunk into the quagmire of a slow economic recovery, some of the most cynical politicking ever, and some of the most dysfunctional White House-Congress relationships in the history of the country. Obama's signature healthcare legislation would languish in the 30s approval-wise until after he left office. By 2015, no one was talking about the Democrats as the Party of Hope anymore. Even the guy who designed the original 'Hope' poster said he was frustrated by the lack of progress under the Obama admin. I'd argue that the Republicans were responsible for the clear majority of this dysfunction, but if their goal was to muddy the waters between the parties, they succeeded. And with the Tea Party, they were better at rebranding themselves even when they were in the opposition.
And none of this was helped by the face that Obama seemed extremely reluctant, even uninterested, in stepping into the role of party leader. Congressional Democrats were frustrated at the way he kept his distance from them, making it hard to solidify the policy goals they'd implemented in his first term. This article (https://www.nytimes.com/2014/08/19/us/aloof-obama-is-frustrating-his-own-party.html) sums it up well, with this prescient quote sticking out:
'Stronger Together'
In 2016, Democrats didn't plan for a primary, they planned for a coronation. Hillary Clinton had been locking up all the support she could get from the Democratic establishment while Obama was serving his second term. Biden would seem like the clear establishment successor, but by the time he was able to turn his attention from VP duties to the primary he realized Hillary had completely boxed him out. She had already corralled all the big donors, operatives, and endorsements into her corner, and Joe was checkmated before he even sat down to the board. Thus, he turned down the opportunity, likely burying his long-nurtured presidential ambitions.
But then the coronation gets bumpy. Sanders challenges her from the outside, and immediately begins putting her on the spot as to why she's running. In other words, what does she envision for the Democratic brand? Hillary herself doesn't know. Is it a third term of Bill (whose star was starting to fade among everyone whose name doesn't rhyme with Shames Scarville), a third term of Obama (whose Hope posters have since become landfill), or an all-new thing?
To Hillary's credit, she couldn't portray herself as a total break from the past, both because she had been was strongly anchored to the national political landscape for the last thirty years, and because she could hardly attack Obama's record too harshly. In the end, she also struggled to brand both herself and the party. Consider the slogans most associated with her campaign; 'Forward Together' and 'Stronger Together' sound like the slogans of a centrist third party with no concrete policy ideas. They just attempted to project a feeling of unity onto a people who were united only, if the candidacies of Sanders and Trump meant anything, in the feeling that 'establishment' politicians like HRC had failed. And, of course, 'I'm with Her' was barely a rebrand at all, simply associating the party with its uncharismatic yet seemingly unstoppable frontrunner.
In the meantime, Trump had done the opposite, rebranding himself and the GOP as the party of 'America First populism.' What that meant exactly in terms of policy seemed to change from day to day But as a brand, as a forceful statement of intent, it worked, especially when contrasted with a seemingly rudderless HRC campaign that failed to answer the age-old question: 'Why are you running for president?'
'For the People'
After the 2016 fiasco, the Democrats were decimated and leaderless. Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid had passed his leadership position to Chuck Schumer and passed on soon after Trump took office. Tim Ryan led a mutiny against Nancy Pelosi, blaming her in part for the party's plunge from ascendance to irrelevance in the House. Hillary Clinton disappeared into the woods of Chappaqua. Obama started making a docu-series for Netflix. Joe Biden entered semi-retirement and wrote a book.
But in all of this, they found something they had been lacking. A brand.
Not the one they would have preferred, but one that would work nonetheless for winning elections. House Dems would embrace the (once-again) vague slogan of 'For the People' ahead of the 2018 midterms, but the aim was clear. The Democrats were now the Opposition; the Anti-Trump party.
Trump's approval rating was not just low, but incredibly sticky. People tended to have very firm opinions on him, and so his approval rating barely escaped the 35-45% range, with him almost hitting 50% before the pandemic hit. Thus, running on opposition to Trump would be fine electorally. In 2018, the Democrats had a blue wave year based mostly on opposition to Trump, retaking the house. Ironically, a big policy motivator for voters was backlash against the GOP's effort to repeal and replace Obamacare -- a promise that had driven Republican electoral gains since the bill was passed into law. Republican branding and messaging had been so successful that, for the better part of the decade, people trusted them to 'fix' the ACA until the very last minute before the replacement was signed.
'Battle for the Soul of the Nation'
But the problem remained for 2020 -- who would lead them? This was a difficult decision even before the pandemic. And Democratic primary voters were treated to a veritable buffet on angles on how to rebrand the party to beat Trump.
Should the party embrace democratic socialism under Sanders, or heavy consumer advocacy under Warren? Should it embrace a young, charismatic up-and-comer like Harris, Buttigieg, or O'Rourke or someone just as 'establishment' as Hillary, like Michael Bloomberg? Old-school liberalism with the Klob? Whatever Andrew Yang was doing?
But as the polls drew near, the Democrats seemed to conclude that beating Trump was simply more important than charting a new course for the party. If they could get elected or rebrand, they'd choose the former. And so all the other more moderate candidates dropped out to consolidate the vote around Biden, as the safe, expected pick who could stay the course. Biden and his surrogates began adopting the slogan 'Battle for the Soul of the Nation,' an epic and apocalyptic phrase that is still fundamentally reactive in tone, implying that the biggest motivator to vote for Democrats that fall was not to pass any specific agenda, but to put a stop to the GOP's plans.
Biden wouldn't govern in this way, but he would campaign this way -- as the normal, capable candidate who could lead the country's post-covid recovery in opposition to Trump's perceived incompetence. Biden won, but Democrats didn't get nearly the boost they wanted from covid, and House candidates underperformed Biden nationally, leading to a surprising loss of seats in the House. And after the effort to throw out the election failed, Trump left office with severely damaged standing with independents. The anti-Trump brand had delivered Dems a trifecta; now it was time to use it; hopefully to establish a new brand for a new decade.
'Building Back Better'
Upon taking office, Biden and the Dems lay out their agenda; the 'Build Back Better' plan, which centers on a three-pronged approach; a pandemic relief bill, an infrastructure bill, and a social policy bill. Passing such plans will involve all 50 Senate D's on board in some cases, and a bipartisan filibuster-proof majority of 60 senators in other cases.
People laugh, think back to 2010, and begin arguing whether a prediction that the GOP will control 55 Senate seats by 2023 is too conservative. Nancy Pelosi is trying to manage a mere five-seat majority in the house. Mitch McConnell, who once feasted on the Democrats' lost hopes the way a hungry turtle devours a plate of juicy strawberries, still held enough sway in the Senate to hold up any significant policy not related to budget reconciliation. Even then, Schumer must wrangle mavericks like Joe Manchin and Kyrsten Sinema. Dramatic divisions still rip across the fabric of American society. But then, something truly strange happens.
The 117th Congress ends up being one of the most productive sessions ever.
Whether or not you think any or all of the 117th's acts were good policy, it's undeniable that this was an unusually politically efficient session, especially considering the last decade of hardball politics. Bipartisan majorities drive the infrastructure act, a gun control act, a tech-manufacturing promotion act, and even a somewhat-legalization of same-sex marriage nationwide. Plus, Schumer and Pelosi navigate their tiny majorities toward passing partisan priorities, like the pandemic relief act and the scaled-down Build Back Better social policy bill, rebranded as the Inflation Reduction Act or IRA. McConnell drops his trademark stonewalling and collaborates with Biden on the bipartisan bills, and 'Yea' votes roll in even from deep red states -- Republican senators from Mississippi, West Virginia, and North Dakota get these bills over the line. Bipartisanship returns to Congress in fleeting glances -- something that I feel confident in arguing absolutely no one expected Biden or the Dem leaders to be able to do.
Of course, no one has forgotten 2010, and 2022 looks to be another rough year. Inflation soars, and Biden's approval rating drops. Dems brace for impact. The Dobbs ruling happens, but polls repeatedly suggest that the economy is the top issue on voters' minds, and they don't like Biden's handling of it.
But while these things are true, they ignore a crucial factor -- the GOP is embroiled in an identity crisis of its own. The leader of the party is claiming to be the legitimate president of the United States, which is a bit of a hard issue to ignore. Trump loyalists beat out 'establishment' Republicans in the primaries, and bring their hard promotion of the MAGA brand to the general elections. And they lose.
I think it's fair to say that the GOP lost most of the key races of the 2022 midterms, rather than Democrats winning them. Swing state Republican parties chose candidates who adhered so closely to a brand so toxic that independents still chose the Democrats, even in some cases where they were dissatisfied with the party. Republicans who have managed to establish a brand for themselves -- DeSantis, Kemp, and DeWine among them -- soar, while the Trumpiest candidates fall flat. McConnell remains in the minority, and McCarthy becomes the head of a very, very dysfunctional family.
Will Brandon's Rebrand Stand?
So, coming off an unusually strong midterm, where does the party go in 2024? Probably, as u/Randomuser1520 said, back to Biden. When your party wins one of the most fiercely contested elections in American history, has a productive legislative session, and then massively overperforms in the midterm, you don't usually change horses regardless of what approval polling says. If Biden were just 10 years younger and the health concerns were off the table, there would be no question in anyone's mind who to nominate.
The establishment and progressive wings of the party seem to be behind him if he runs, meaning challenges will only come from real outsiders like Marianne Williamson and Robert Kennedy Jr. The DNC will probably work to make those challenges as unviable as possible.
2024 is tricky to predict. Trump is favored on the Republican side, and as said before, his brand is so toxic that Biden can probably glide to reelection barring any massive economic downturns or serious health problems. I won't get too much into 2024, because it seems pretty clearly on the path to becoming another referendum on the GOP's brand, not the Democrats'. Biden's second term (and the rest of his first term) may be defined as much by implementation of the legislation they passed during the 117th as much as by new legislation, if not more.
So the question becomes this -- where does the party go in 2028? Or, in other words, what will Democrats take away from the Biden presidency, and how will Biden shape the party's brand going forward? Who they choose to lead the party next will tell, and Biden's presidency may already be laying out a blueprint.
In his 1996 State of the Union address, Bill Clinton declared 'the era of big government is over,' essentially conceding that Reagan and his vision of a small role for the federal government in domestic affairs had won out for the time, and that Democrats would need to work within that political reality in order to win elections. Obama's efforts to change that status quo resulted in an avalanche of backlash from Tea Partiers, self-proclaimed champions of fiscal conservatism. Hillary Clinton's failed campaign strategy arguably rested more on that understanding of the political climate than anything else, causing her to miss a series of growing frustrations with Reaganism at times channelled by Sanders and, at times, Trump -- at decimation of the manufacturing sector, at the growing gap between rich and poor, at China's seemingly unstoppable three-decade rise at the expense of the U.S.
Biden's approach to American industry and government is a strong repudiation of Reaganism, based around the idea that it is the government's job to fortify and guide the economy in ways that are necessary where the free market has little incentive to. It argues that the issues of infrastructural decay, manufacturing decline, and the growing need for green energy in the face of climate change will only be solved if the government directs the power of the private sector towards those goals at great upfront cost. And free trade, long held as the unassailable source of America's prosperity, must now only be employed in moderation -- if the U.S. has to arguably break international law to lure foreign investment into the U.S. through generous subsidies, it will be worth it, even if it earns the fury of our economic partners. This may be the groundwork of Bidenism.
These plans may fail. The money may be wasted by incompetent or corrupt administrators and the American people may become even more jaded at the thought of big government. But movement within the GOP may suggest a broader shift in the American mind towards this kind of economic interventionism is already in progress. Promising to reverse the decline of manufacturing through tariffs and other measures would have been political anathema twenty years ago, but it has become a core Republican plank. Florida Republicans' punitive measures towards Disney and the GOP's growing support for government action against Big Tech companies suggests openness towards not just using state power to guide the economy, but also to reshape the social landscape by manipulating the private sector. It may well be that the era of small government is over.
I've sorted some potential 'brands' and some of the people who might be nominated in 2028 / become party standard-bearers should the Democrats go in that direction. These lists aren't exhaustive; I'm just trying to establish a general vibe.
The 'Biden Blueprint': Kamala Harris, Pete Buttigieg, Gina Raimondo
These are members of the Biden admin who have been given great power (and great piles of money) to enact the legislation of the 117th. If American sentiment towards big government changes as quickly as I think it could, a Cabinet secretary could have a decent shot in 2028. Harris would be the natural successor as the VP, but Transportation Sec Buttigieg and Commerce Sec Raimondo, who were empowered to implement much of the Infrastructure Act and the CHIPS Act respectively, could become standard-bearers for this new vision of technocratic governance if they administer these programs well (and in a way that makes headlines). If Energy Sec Granholm were a natural-born citizen, she would definitely fit here as well, considering how much power the IRA gave her department.
The 'New New Deal': Amy Klobuchar, Catherine Cortez Masto, Mark Kelly, Tammy Duckworth, Raphael Warnock
Liberal senators who are capable of working across the aisle to achieve compromise could be a strong bet if Democrats want to recreate the success of the 117th Congress in the future. There's always an argument that effective legislators won't necessarily make for effective executives, but these choices would help with Democrats' goal of rebranding the Democratic party as the party you vote for if you want Washington to function properly and anticipate constituents' needs. Such a ticket could brand itself as the path to bipartisan yet assertive solutions on familiar and emerging issues like immigration reform, federal protection for abortion, the housing shortage, and the drug crisis.
The 'Bulwark': Roy Cooper, Laura Kelly, Andy Beshear
I'll admit that when I began writing this post, I had a more favorable opinion of the above three governors and politicians like them as presidential nominees and the potential 'future of the party.' I no longer feel as strongly about them, however, because I don't believe they do enough to change the brand of the Democrats and the political environment as a whole. These governors are best known for winning races in red states; for holding the line against the most conservative policies while finding areas of compromise, especially on kitchen-table issues.
But this brand of Democrat is fundamentally reactive, even defensive -- it assumes that most of the job will be obstructing right-wing legislation from a red legislature. In other words, it is a kind of strategy you use when you're trying to hold ground, not gain it. It works well when your opponent's brand is toxic (as the GOP's has been since 2016), but this I suspect this brand of 'competent normality' will struggle if the opposition ceases to actively repel voters. If Trump and his acolytes continue to hold a strong grip on the party through 2024 and beyond, this brand may not be a bad bet short-term, but long-term Democrats want to be the ones establishing the rules of the game, not just beating your opponent at theirs. That's what a successful political brand does. While Dems in similar situation should definitely look to these governors for guidance in running their campaigns (and hopefully, their administrations), I would caution at this point against basing the national party's brand on their model.
I think somewhere between these three groups lies a successful path forward for the Democrats that towards becoming the dominant party in U.S. politics at the federal level. There are some other interesting currents in the party; like how Democratic governors like Whitmer, Evers, and Walz have rebuilt D strength the Midwest after a rough 2010s, and how Western Dems like Jared Polis, Mary Peltola, and Marie Gluesenkamp Perez have found unexpected electoral stength by embracing a form of libertarianism. However, these currents may be regional, and Democrats shouldn't necessarily try to nationalize every idea that works in one part of the country. Creating different regional 'flavors' of Democrat would be necessary to keep the party relevant in all parts of the country.
Regarding the 2020 primary runners-up, I don't think most of the visions laid out then work post-2024, and for this reason I tend not to give too much weight to current Democratic primary polling, because it assumes these same people would be running again.
Assuming Biden ends his term without catastrophe, I don't think the party needs to place all their faith in a young, charismatic Obama wannabe like O'Rourke or Swalwell, nor does it need to drastically pivot to the center, nor does it need to proclaim itself the party of 'outsiders,' nor does it need to give the reins to the progressive wing. If everything goes right, they can remain ideologically where they are now (roughly) and establish a solid brand for the first time in a generation.
The Democrats been losing the branding war since the days of Nixon. They may currently have all the tools they need right now to change that, and set the expectations for the next fifty years of politics. Let's see how they do.
This is my first big write-up, so I almost certainly missed some stuff and made some assumptions. Let me know what you think.
submitted by r3dsca to redscarepod [link] [comments]
Essay posted by u/dcmetro7
https://www.reddit.com/usedcmetro7/
Democrats have a branding problem : AngryObservation (reddit.com)
Democrats have a branding problem
😴 Long Observation 😴I was inspired by u/Randomuser1520 's post about the Democratic Party's seemingly weak bench of future potential presidential nominees.
A lot of the problems trace back to 2016, but I'd argue the Democrats' branding woes go back even further. Think all the way back to the last time the Democrats had a consistently strong electoral record as a party -- the 90s, where the only truly bad year for Ds was 1994. Bill Clinton had successfully rebranded the party under the 'Third Way' label that Dems at any level could embrace and benefit from, and he had a clear successor in Al Gore. But Gore loses narrowly in 2000, and the problems for the Dems' brand begin.
'Yes We Can'
After 9/11, the electorate supports Bush and they support war. Dems' brand takes a hit and they lose the 2002 midterms. In 2004, John Kerry is successfully painted as an out-of-touch Ivy League liberal, disengaged from 'real America.' Dems lose and their brand suffers further.
But by the end of Bush's term, most Americans are disillusioned with Dubyaism. They wanted change, and one man promises to lead them to it with posters that proclaim 'HOPE' and cries of 'Yes We Can,' heralding in a new age of politics. Barack Obama and the Democrats are swept into a trifecta in Washington.
And we certainly got a new age of politics. When Obama was inaugurated, pundits speculated about the 'emerging Democratic majority', and how the GOP may literally go extinct in ten years. By the end of Obama's second term, those same pundits are surveying the absolutely decimated state of the Democratic party at all levels of power. Dems had lost the Senate, the House, most governorships, and most state legislatures. Control of the state legislatures makes the GOP's hold on the House even stronger. Control of the Senate effectively leads to control of the Supreme Court.
While Obama certainly can't be blamed for everything the GOP threw at him, I feel like it's safe to say his rebranding of the Democratic party failed in the long run. The 'Party of Hope' was sunk into the quagmire of a slow economic recovery, some of the most cynical politicking ever, and some of the most dysfunctional White House-Congress relationships in the history of the country. Obama's signature healthcare legislation would languish in the 30s approval-wise until after he left office. By 2015, no one was talking about the Democrats as the Party of Hope anymore. Even the guy who designed the original 'Hope' poster said he was frustrated by the lack of progress under the Obama admin. I'd argue that the Republicans were responsible for the clear majority of this dysfunction, but if their goal was to muddy the waters between the parties, they succeeded. And with the Tea Party, they were better at rebranding themselves even when they were in the opposition.
And none of this was helped by the face that Obama seemed extremely reluctant, even uninterested, in stepping into the role of party leader. Congressional Democrats were frustrated at the way he kept his distance from them, making it hard to solidify the policy goals they'd implemented in his first term. This article (https://www.nytimes.com/2014/08/19/us/aloof-obama-is-frustrating-his-own-party.html) sums it up well, with this prescient quote sticking out:
In interviews, nearly two dozen Democratic lawmakers and senior congressional aides suggested that Mr. Obama’s approach has left him with few loyalists to effectively manage the issues erupting abroad and at home and could imperil his efforts to leave a legacy in his final stretch in office.And sure enough, Obama's legacy was in peril before he even left office.
'Stronger Together'
In 2016, Democrats didn't plan for a primary, they planned for a coronation. Hillary Clinton had been locking up all the support she could get from the Democratic establishment while Obama was serving his second term. Biden would seem like the clear establishment successor, but by the time he was able to turn his attention from VP duties to the primary he realized Hillary had completely boxed him out. She had already corralled all the big donors, operatives, and endorsements into her corner, and Joe was checkmated before he even sat down to the board. Thus, he turned down the opportunity, likely burying his long-nurtured presidential ambitions.
But then the coronation gets bumpy. Sanders challenges her from the outside, and immediately begins putting her on the spot as to why she's running. In other words, what does she envision for the Democratic brand? Hillary herself doesn't know. Is it a third term of Bill (whose star was starting to fade among everyone whose name doesn't rhyme with Shames Scarville), a third term of Obama (whose Hope posters have since become landfill), or an all-new thing?
To Hillary's credit, she couldn't portray herself as a total break from the past, both because she had been was strongly anchored to the national political landscape for the last thirty years, and because she could hardly attack Obama's record too harshly. In the end, she also struggled to brand both herself and the party. Consider the slogans most associated with her campaign; 'Forward Together' and 'Stronger Together' sound like the slogans of a centrist third party with no concrete policy ideas. They just attempted to project a feeling of unity onto a people who were united only, if the candidacies of Sanders and Trump meant anything, in the feeling that 'establishment' politicians like HRC had failed. And, of course, 'I'm with Her' was barely a rebrand at all, simply associating the party with its uncharismatic yet seemingly unstoppable frontrunner.
In the meantime, Trump had done the opposite, rebranding himself and the GOP as the party of 'America First populism.' What that meant exactly in terms of policy seemed to change from day to day But as a brand, as a forceful statement of intent, it worked, especially when contrasted with a seemingly rudderless HRC campaign that failed to answer the age-old question: 'Why are you running for president?'
'For the People'
After the 2016 fiasco, the Democrats were decimated and leaderless. Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid had passed his leadership position to Chuck Schumer and passed on soon after Trump took office. Tim Ryan led a mutiny against Nancy Pelosi, blaming her in part for the party's plunge from ascendance to irrelevance in the House. Hillary Clinton disappeared into the woods of Chappaqua. Obama started making a docu-series for Netflix. Joe Biden entered semi-retirement and wrote a book.
But in all of this, they found something they had been lacking. A brand.
Not the one they would have preferred, but one that would work nonetheless for winning elections. House Dems would embrace the (once-again) vague slogan of 'For the People' ahead of the 2018 midterms, but the aim was clear. The Democrats were now the Opposition; the Anti-Trump party.
Trump's approval rating was not just low, but incredibly sticky. People tended to have very firm opinions on him, and so his approval rating barely escaped the 35-45% range, with him almost hitting 50% before the pandemic hit. Thus, running on opposition to Trump would be fine electorally. In 2018, the Democrats had a blue wave year based mostly on opposition to Trump, retaking the house. Ironically, a big policy motivator for voters was backlash against the GOP's effort to repeal and replace Obamacare -- a promise that had driven Republican electoral gains since the bill was passed into law. Republican branding and messaging had been so successful that, for the better part of the decade, people trusted them to 'fix' the ACA until the very last minute before the replacement was signed.
'Battle for the Soul of the Nation'
But the problem remained for 2020 -- who would lead them? This was a difficult decision even before the pandemic. And Democratic primary voters were treated to a veritable buffet on angles on how to rebrand the party to beat Trump.
Should the party embrace democratic socialism under Sanders, or heavy consumer advocacy under Warren? Should it embrace a young, charismatic up-and-comer like Harris, Buttigieg, or O'Rourke or someone just as 'establishment' as Hillary, like Michael Bloomberg? Old-school liberalism with the Klob? Whatever Andrew Yang was doing?
But as the polls drew near, the Democrats seemed to conclude that beating Trump was simply more important than charting a new course for the party. If they could get elected or rebrand, they'd choose the former. And so all the other more moderate candidates dropped out to consolidate the vote around Biden, as the safe, expected pick who could stay the course. Biden and his surrogates began adopting the slogan 'Battle for the Soul of the Nation,' an epic and apocalyptic phrase that is still fundamentally reactive in tone, implying that the biggest motivator to vote for Democrats that fall was not to pass any specific agenda, but to put a stop to the GOP's plans.
Biden wouldn't govern in this way, but he would campaign this way -- as the normal, capable candidate who could lead the country's post-covid recovery in opposition to Trump's perceived incompetence. Biden won, but Democrats didn't get nearly the boost they wanted from covid, and House candidates underperformed Biden nationally, leading to a surprising loss of seats in the House. And after the effort to throw out the election failed, Trump left office with severely damaged standing with independents. The anti-Trump brand had delivered Dems a trifecta; now it was time to use it; hopefully to establish a new brand for a new decade.
'Building Back Better'
Upon taking office, Biden and the Dems lay out their agenda; the 'Build Back Better' plan, which centers on a three-pronged approach; a pandemic relief bill, an infrastructure bill, and a social policy bill. Passing such plans will involve all 50 Senate D's on board in some cases, and a bipartisan filibuster-proof majority of 60 senators in other cases.
People laugh, think back to 2010, and begin arguing whether a prediction that the GOP will control 55 Senate seats by 2023 is too conservative. Nancy Pelosi is trying to manage a mere five-seat majority in the house. Mitch McConnell, who once feasted on the Democrats' lost hopes the way a hungry turtle devours a plate of juicy strawberries, still held enough sway in the Senate to hold up any significant policy not related to budget reconciliation. Even then, Schumer must wrangle mavericks like Joe Manchin and Kyrsten Sinema. Dramatic divisions still rip across the fabric of American society. But then, something truly strange happens.
The 117th Congress ends up being one of the most productive sessions ever.
Whether or not you think any or all of the 117th's acts were good policy, it's undeniable that this was an unusually politically efficient session, especially considering the last decade of hardball politics. Bipartisan majorities drive the infrastructure act, a gun control act, a tech-manufacturing promotion act, and even a somewhat-legalization of same-sex marriage nationwide. Plus, Schumer and Pelosi navigate their tiny majorities toward passing partisan priorities, like the pandemic relief act and the scaled-down Build Back Better social policy bill, rebranded as the Inflation Reduction Act or IRA. McConnell drops his trademark stonewalling and collaborates with Biden on the bipartisan bills, and 'Yea' votes roll in even from deep red states -- Republican senators from Mississippi, West Virginia, and North Dakota get these bills over the line. Bipartisanship returns to Congress in fleeting glances -- something that I feel confident in arguing absolutely no one expected Biden or the Dem leaders to be able to do.
Of course, no one has forgotten 2010, and 2022 looks to be another rough year. Inflation soars, and Biden's approval rating drops. Dems brace for impact. The Dobbs ruling happens, but polls repeatedly suggest that the economy is the top issue on voters' minds, and they don't like Biden's handling of it.
But while these things are true, they ignore a crucial factor -- the GOP is embroiled in an identity crisis of its own. The leader of the party is claiming to be the legitimate president of the United States, which is a bit of a hard issue to ignore. Trump loyalists beat out 'establishment' Republicans in the primaries, and bring their hard promotion of the MAGA brand to the general elections. And they lose.
I think it's fair to say that the GOP lost most of the key races of the 2022 midterms, rather than Democrats winning them. Swing state Republican parties chose candidates who adhered so closely to a brand so toxic that independents still chose the Democrats, even in some cases where they were dissatisfied with the party. Republicans who have managed to establish a brand for themselves -- DeSantis, Kemp, and DeWine among them -- soar, while the Trumpiest candidates fall flat. McConnell remains in the minority, and McCarthy becomes the head of a very, very dysfunctional family.
Will Brandon's Rebrand Stand?
So, coming off an unusually strong midterm, where does the party go in 2024? Probably, as u/Randomuser1520 said, back to Biden. When your party wins one of the most fiercely contested elections in American history, has a productive legislative session, and then massively overperforms in the midterm, you don't usually change horses regardless of what approval polling says. If Biden were just 10 years younger and the health concerns were off the table, there would be no question in anyone's mind who to nominate.
The establishment and progressive wings of the party seem to be behind him if he runs, meaning challenges will only come from real outsiders like Marianne Williamson and Robert Kennedy Jr. The DNC will probably work to make those challenges as unviable as possible.
2024 is tricky to predict. Trump is favored on the Republican side, and as said before, his brand is so toxic that Biden can probably glide to reelection barring any massive economic downturns or serious health problems. I won't get too much into 2024, because it seems pretty clearly on the path to becoming another referendum on the GOP's brand, not the Democrats'. Biden's second term (and the rest of his first term) may be defined as much by implementation of the legislation they passed during the 117th as much as by new legislation, if not more.
So the question becomes this -- where does the party go in 2028? Or, in other words, what will Democrats take away from the Biden presidency, and how will Biden shape the party's brand going forward? Who they choose to lead the party next will tell, and Biden's presidency may already be laying out a blueprint.
In his 1996 State of the Union address, Bill Clinton declared 'the era of big government is over,' essentially conceding that Reagan and his vision of a small role for the federal government in domestic affairs had won out for the time, and that Democrats would need to work within that political reality in order to win elections. Obama's efforts to change that status quo resulted in an avalanche of backlash from Tea Partiers, self-proclaimed champions of fiscal conservatism. Hillary Clinton's failed campaign strategy arguably rested more on that understanding of the political climate than anything else, causing her to miss a series of growing frustrations with Reaganism at times channelled by Sanders and, at times, Trump -- at decimation of the manufacturing sector, at the growing gap between rich and poor, at China's seemingly unstoppable three-decade rise at the expense of the U.S.
Biden's approach to American industry and government is a strong repudiation of Reaganism, based around the idea that it is the government's job to fortify and guide the economy in ways that are necessary where the free market has little incentive to. It argues that the issues of infrastructural decay, manufacturing decline, and the growing need for green energy in the face of climate change will only be solved if the government directs the power of the private sector towards those goals at great upfront cost. And free trade, long held as the unassailable source of America's prosperity, must now only be employed in moderation -- if the U.S. has to arguably break international law to lure foreign investment into the U.S. through generous subsidies, it will be worth it, even if it earns the fury of our economic partners. This may be the groundwork of Bidenism.
These plans may fail. The money may be wasted by incompetent or corrupt administrators and the American people may become even more jaded at the thought of big government. But movement within the GOP may suggest a broader shift in the American mind towards this kind of economic interventionism is already in progress. Promising to reverse the decline of manufacturing through tariffs and other measures would have been political anathema twenty years ago, but it has become a core Republican plank. Florida Republicans' punitive measures towards Disney and the GOP's growing support for government action against Big Tech companies suggests openness towards not just using state power to guide the economy, but also to reshape the social landscape by manipulating the private sector. It may well be that the era of small government is over.
I've sorted some potential 'brands' and some of the people who might be nominated in 2028 / become party standard-bearers should the Democrats go in that direction. These lists aren't exhaustive; I'm just trying to establish a general vibe.
The 'Biden Blueprint': Kamala Harris, Pete Buttigieg, Gina Raimondo
These are members of the Biden admin who have been given great power (and great piles of money) to enact the legislation of the 117th. If American sentiment towards big government changes as quickly as I think it could, a Cabinet secretary could have a decent shot in 2028. Harris would be the natural successor as the VP, but Transportation Sec Buttigieg and Commerce Sec Raimondo, who were empowered to implement much of the Infrastructure Act and the CHIPS Act respectively, could become standard-bearers for this new vision of technocratic governance if they administer these programs well (and in a way that makes headlines). If Energy Sec Granholm were a natural-born citizen, she would definitely fit here as well, considering how much power the IRA gave her department.
The 'New New Deal': Amy Klobuchar, Catherine Cortez Masto, Mark Kelly, Tammy Duckworth, Raphael Warnock
Liberal senators who are capable of working across the aisle to achieve compromise could be a strong bet if Democrats want to recreate the success of the 117th Congress in the future. There's always an argument that effective legislators won't necessarily make for effective executives, but these choices would help with Democrats' goal of rebranding the Democratic party as the party you vote for if you want Washington to function properly and anticipate constituents' needs. Such a ticket could brand itself as the path to bipartisan yet assertive solutions on familiar and emerging issues like immigration reform, federal protection for abortion, the housing shortage, and the drug crisis.
The 'Bulwark': Roy Cooper, Laura Kelly, Andy Beshear
I'll admit that when I began writing this post, I had a more favorable opinion of the above three governors and politicians like them as presidential nominees and the potential 'future of the party.' I no longer feel as strongly about them, however, because I don't believe they do enough to change the brand of the Democrats and the political environment as a whole. These governors are best known for winning races in red states; for holding the line against the most conservative policies while finding areas of compromise, especially on kitchen-table issues.
But this brand of Democrat is fundamentally reactive, even defensive -- it assumes that most of the job will be obstructing right-wing legislation from a red legislature. In other words, it is a kind of strategy you use when you're trying to hold ground, not gain it. It works well when your opponent's brand is toxic (as the GOP's has been since 2016), but this I suspect this brand of 'competent normality' will struggle if the opposition ceases to actively repel voters. If Trump and his acolytes continue to hold a strong grip on the party through 2024 and beyond, this brand may not be a bad bet short-term, but long-term Democrats want to be the ones establishing the rules of the game, not just beating your opponent at theirs. That's what a successful political brand does. While Dems in similar situation should definitely look to these governors for guidance in running their campaigns (and hopefully, their administrations), I would caution at this point against basing the national party's brand on their model.
I think somewhere between these three groups lies a successful path forward for the Democrats that towards becoming the dominant party in U.S. politics at the federal level. There are some other interesting currents in the party; like how Democratic governors like Whitmer, Evers, and Walz have rebuilt D strength the Midwest after a rough 2010s, and how Western Dems like Jared Polis, Mary Peltola, and Marie Gluesenkamp Perez have found unexpected electoral stength by embracing a form of libertarianism. However, these currents may be regional, and Democrats shouldn't necessarily try to nationalize every idea that works in one part of the country. Creating different regional 'flavors' of Democrat would be necessary to keep the party relevant in all parts of the country.
Regarding the 2020 primary runners-up, I don't think most of the visions laid out then work post-2024, and for this reason I tend not to give too much weight to current Democratic primary polling, because it assumes these same people would be running again.
Assuming Biden ends his term without catastrophe, I don't think the party needs to place all their faith in a young, charismatic Obama wannabe like O'Rourke or Swalwell, nor does it need to drastically pivot to the center, nor does it need to proclaim itself the party of 'outsiders,' nor does it need to give the reins to the progressive wing. If everything goes right, they can remain ideologically where they are now (roughly) and establish a solid brand for the first time in a generation.
The Democrats been losing the branding war since the days of Nixon. They may currently have all the tools they need right now to change that, and set the expectations for the next fifty years of politics. Let's see how they do.
This is my first big write-up, so I almost certainly missed some stuff and made some assumptions. Let me know what you think.
2023.06.02 17:10 Wapulatus Respect Beast I, Goetia (Fate/Grand Order)
"Then I shall show you. The end of your journey. The demise of human history that will redo this planet. The moment my great undertaking is completed!"
Goetia
♫ Shikisai ~The Time of Parting Hath Come~ ♫This thread is a collaboration with InverseFlash and rsthethird, who helped with feat-gathering, as well as Proletlariet, who helped with formatting. Thanks!
Background
The King of Mages, Solomon, gathered 72 demons in his life that he fashioned into "a system to promote reason in humans"--a sort of magical logic network. After some time, the demons gained self-awareness and merged into a collective being.
This being, the amalgamation of the 72 Demons, became known as Goetia.
When Solomon died, the demons were sealed away inside his corpse. The awakened Goetia at first assumed Solomon's identity. Through his eyes, they witnessed the extent of human suffering that Solomon, for all the king's vast power, had failed to address. They became disillusioned with their host, and hatched a plan to remake the world without its imperfections by travelling back in time.
Source Guide
Relevant Scaling:
- List of Servants
- If I name a character, it can be found here. I will not be linking a respect thread for every individual character mentioned in this thread due to the shear number of Servants/characters Goetia and Demon Pillars interact with.
- Mash Kyrielight
- Beast II - Tiamat
- Beast VII - U-Olga Marie
- Rayshifting: Chaldea's method of time travel. It works by transforming the time traveler's body into 'Spiritrons', and then sending them backwards in time. Spiritrons being a form of energy/particle formed from a person's soul
- Sheba: An observational lens that can sense the near-future, and could give Chaldea detailed information from inside of a bubble that absorbed all forms of normal radiation
- See the Fate Franchise Hub Post for a more extensive list of Fate related terms
King of Mages - "Solomon"
"Plead for help. Raise your mewling voice. For it is the time for you to drown in the sea of anguish! Behold this festival of flame that set ablaze the altar, rendered in its resplendence!"♫ The Time of Coronation Hath Come ♫
Prior to revealing himself, Goetia posed as King Solomon while possessing his corpse..
Controlling Solomon granted Goetia a variety of abilities, namely the class container of "Grand", which allowed him to outclass any normal Servant by virtue of this.
Physical Feats/Power
- Manifested himself after his own death via his own will, and therefore doesn't need to rely on any sort of magical energy support like normal Servants
- Mordred claims his power exceeds that of a dragon, with Shakesphere going on to say he has 'infinite' magical energy, although he's likely exaggerating
- Tamamo-No-Mae claims that, even if she got all nine of her tails and became "a great demon strong enough to destroy the multiverse" that "[Solomon] is a threat threat enough to rival" her in that state
- When comparing him as Solomon to the Beast of the Seventh Singularity (later revealed to be Tiamat), the Lion King flips around the idea of who might be more of a threat to humanity
- Command spells wouldn't work on Solomon
- Engages with an extensive fight with Mash, hurting her with an attack
- Takes a blow from Mash that 'reaches the core of [his] body'
Clairvoyance
It has been said that Solomon's clairvoyance can see through the past and the future.
Because Clairvoyance is a skill furnished on the flesh, Goetia can also use it.
- Claims that he can 'see everything' and 'all possible futures', but cannot track things which exist outside of time
- [Limit] Even with his Clairvoyance, he didn't foresee the appearance of the Beast of the Seventh Singularity, Tiamat
- Goetia used Solomon's clairvoyance to perceive all human suffering in the past, present, and future
- Solomon sent one of his rings over 3,000 years into the future to act as a catalyst for his own summoning as a Heroic Spirit, putting into motion the events that would lead to Goetia's defeat
- Solomon used his Clairvoyance shortly before turning into a human with no powers to foresee the Incineration of Humanity in 2018 from 2004
- Gives him an unobstructed view of the past and future, as well as x-ray vision
Magecraft / Magic
Offensive- Solomon/Goetia can summon any of the 72 Demon God Pillars at will, described as him projecting them out from his inner world to the outside world
- Anderson is astonished at how badly he's hurt blocking just a single one of his attack spells
- A second spell rips Anderson into hundreds of pieces and then burns him into a crisp
- Goetia incinerates all living things on the planet at once just with his gaze, a feat characters in the story assumed he would need a powerful technique to accomplish
- Uses magic similar to a Rayshift to transport himself to the London Singularity
- Generates a field around himself that passively blocks Sheba's ability to observe him, as well as Romani's ability to communicate via hologram
- His field blocks Chaldeas' ability to Rayshift Fujimaru and Mash out of London
- Likely broke the seal binding Tiamet out of existence, though Ishtar notes that human mages might have done it
- Inserts images into Mash and Ritsuka's heads while they're mid-Rayshift
- Has a countermeasure that prevents using magic to predict his actions
- Has the ability to hasten his magical incantations, create magical constructs, and make magical territories via Solomon's class skills
- Goetia has nine of Solomon's 10 Rings. If all 10 were brought together, Solomon/Goetia would invalidate any magecraft used by mankind against him and put them under his control
Evil Eye
Curse- Solomon has become a walking curse, such that saying his name or looking him in the eye will remove a person's soul and imprison it
- By just looking at him, Mash begins to quake in fear for reasons she can't explain. Her soul might have been imprisoned in the false reality forever if a friend's out of character behavior hadn't tipped her off
- Tamamo with two of her tails believes she'd be vulnerable to the curse
- A person who's been afflicted with the Evil Eye has trouble remembering Solomon's appearance, and even video recordings of him are covered in static
- Even a drawn picture of Solomon can inflict the Evil Eye without special anti-curse precautions
- To escape, the soul must complete a set of trials within seven days, or death ensues
- Only the soul is imprisoned in the false reality, while the body remains behind. The soul experiences time at a much longer rate in the false world than the body does in the real one with seven days for the soul being equal to one for the body
- The prison's trials drag in fragments of the souls of the prisoner's acquaintances to serve as obstacles, it can do this even to heroic spirits, who have superhumanly powerful souls
Beast I - Goetia
"Well, I will rid myself of the title "King of Mages.”♫ Shikisai ~The Time of Parting Hath Come~ ♫
"There's no more need for deception. I had no name, but if you want to call me something, call me this:"
"I am the one who shall attain true wisdom, as was desired of me. I am the one who shall devour you to reach a new height, and create a new planet."
"I am the one who shall gather 72 curses, and set flame to all of history. I am the Ritual for the Incineration of Humanity."
"I am Goetia, the King of Demon Gods."
The form Goetia takes after he abandons Solomon's corpse partway through the final battle.
His body is a central core surrounded by the 72 "Demon Pillars" that comprise him.
Collective
General Power and Information- Hid in Solomon's body for three thousand years in Ars Paulina without any adverse effects due to the passage of time
- Is a "living summoning spell" that hid itself in Solomon's corpse and later gained a will of its own and physically incarnated as a Beast
- Describes himself as a higher-dimensional being that no longer requires flesh or blood. Due to being Solomon's familiars, he shared in Solomon's Clairvoyance
- Due to being an amalgamation of the 72 Demon Gods, which each have individual personalities, Goetia's personality will mirror that of someone who interacts with him on a surface level
- His existence is fixed, meaning he's immune to 'instant death' effects as well as temporal effects, like the paradoxes generated by incinerating human history
- A weakened Beast VII, or the Foreign God, is stated to be the most powerful thing Chaldea has faced since Goetia, with her magical energy being called a "third class planet" to Goetia's "second class planet"
- Moves so fast he appears to teleport next to Solomon, before bloodying him with a barrage of punches and bombarding him with energy projectiles from his arms
- [Weakened] Ritsuka has trouble blocking his blows with Mash's shield, but can do so long enough for Goetia to die due to Ars Nova
- [Weakened] Knocked back by a Command Spell amplified punch from Ritsuka
The entire space of Solomon's temple gives Da Vinci the same Beast Class reading she saw from Tiamat.
- Goetia's Beast Class Skill, Nega Summon, allows him to negate through "invalidation, invincible, absorption, reduction" any attacks or Noble Phantasms generated by Heroic Spirits, although this skill was nullified by King Solomon's actions at the end of the Final Singularity
- The Evils of Humanity, or Beasts, are summoned in a chain, meaning that Goetia's manifestation heralded the appearance of other Beasts
Individual Demon Pillars
Power- Demon Pillars give off more magical energy than Servants or Phantasmals
- Demon Pillars are weaker while outside of Solomon's Temple, due to their cells dying off
- Demon Pillars have a "Spirit Core" like Servants, as well as innate magical energy, which can be used to fuel other spells (such as one to create pancakes) if defeated
- Require groups of Servants to defeat under normal conditions
- They have comparable power to Kingu during the Babylonian Singularity
- A Demon Pillar is compared to the energy output of a Servant empowering themselves with a Holy Grail
- Eight Demon God Pillars wrapping around the Chaldea building deal catastrophic damage to it and nearly destroy it
- Groups of them tear through the stone and marble of Solomon's throne when called to Goetia, reducing it to ruins
- Erupts out of the floor in a metal observation room, then attacks and absorbs a number of researchers
Demon Pillars attack in a number of ways:
- Various forms of spontaneous explosions that can cover multiples of meters
- Energy blasts that erupt from the ground
- Large storms of smoke that cover the battlefield
- Lasers, presumably fired from their eyes
- An attack from four Demon Pillars oneshot Kintoki, Tamamo, and Shakesphere
- Hurts and sends Robin Hood and Helena Blatvasky flying
- Spits out flames hot enough to burn Oda NobunagaFGO
- Draws blood on Fergus Lily, hurting him, although he's defeated in the overall fight against Astolfo, D'Eon, and Fergus
- Bloodies Wu Zetian with an attack
Favorable Interactions
- One takes a bullet from Francis Drake and continues to fight Mash, Ritsuka, and allies, although it loses the overall battle
- Li Shuwen has trouble injecting them with chi attacks, mostly due to their size
- Robin Hood's 'Yew Bow' and Elizabeth Bathory's weaponized singing don't do anything to them
- Tesla's Noble Phantasm, 'System Keranos', doesn't appear to do much to them, neither does a combined attack from Tesla and Edison's Noble Phantasms
- Lancer Li Shuwen breaks his spear on one
- Cursed Arm and Serenity have no means of harming them, even with Serenity's poison
- Oda Nobunaga's special attacks and bullets have no effect on Demon God Pillars
- Takes a hit from three bullets fired from EMIYA Alter and doesn't seem bothered by it moments later
- A Demon Pillar in its humanoid form take a blast of magic from the Queen of Sheba and is fine
- Takes fire produced by Chacha's abilities and fights Ritsuka, Okita, Nobunaga, and Hijikata, although it ultimately loses the fight
- A recreation of the Demon God Pillars gets bombarded with meteors from outer space by Astrea's Noble Phantasm, and continues to fight with Grey and Astrea, with Astrea commenting it was just as strong as the originals
- A suicide Noble Phantasm release from Arjuna kills twenty-eight of them
- Altera destroys one with Teardrop Photon Ray
- Mordred destroys one with Clarent Blood Arthur
- Bedivere takes out three pillars with an activation of his Noble Phantasm
- Okita Souji slices apart several pillars
- Edmond Dantes was able to take out a pillar by himself
- Ritsuka and his allies (in this case EMIYA Alter and Artoria Alter) were able to kill a Demon God Pillar
- One is defeated by Gawain, although Ritsuka notes it seemed particularly weak
Immortality
- The 72 Demon Gods are all part of the same magecraft ritual associated with Solomon, so as long as Solomon exists, they'll continue to exist even if destroyed
- After Mash kills Flauros, he instantly re-appears, with Mash describing this as an entirely new separate entity being born, and not some form of regeneration or resurrection
- Killing all 72 at once would be required to actually kill them for good
- Creating new demon pillars to replace fallen ones does draw away power from the center of Solomon's Temple, giving Chaldea entryway to the center of Ars Paulina
- Nightingale claims that killing them for good would require destroying all of Ars Paulina
- Even after escaping the Temple of Time and losing their proper immortality, individual demon pillars live for over 3,000 years to plot against Ritsuka
- Demon Pillars can fuse with Heroic Spirits, even against their will
- When Phenex did this with Scheherazade,, the two could trade places and transform into one another
- A Heroic Spirit temporarily integrated into Goetia's hivemind via this process gained access to information he could use to calculate out events related to the Incineration of Humanity
- Merging with a Heroic Spirit gives a Demon Pillar protection from its skills, such as Scheherazade's inability to be killed by Kings
- A number of Demon God Pillars were able to escape the Temple of Time's destruction while leaving ripples in space-time, this being an extradimensional space outside of time
- A number of Demon God Pillars demonstrate the ability to possess humans
- As of the events of Lady Reines' Case Files, Ritsuka has killed so many Demon Pillars that just inserting information about him into facsimiles of them cause them to get significantly weaker
King of Humans - Goetia
"The Demon Gods have burned away. My temple is destroyed. My grand plan for the Incineration of Human Order dies with me. But, I will at least deny you this final victory. Let us begin... Master of Chaldea. I shall annihilate you, and all you've achieved, with my own hands."♫ GRAND LAST BATTLE ♫
Despite Ars Nova ending Solomon's spell that bound the 72 Demons together, Goetia manages to linger long enough for one last fight. However, in this weakened state he can be defeated by a punch from Ritsuka.
Noble Phantasms
Ars Almadel Salomonis: The Time of Birth has Come, He is the One who Masters All
"Then I shall show you. The end of your journey. The demise of human history that will redo this planet. The moment my great undertaking is completed! Third Noble Phantasm, deploy. The Time of Birth has Come, He is the One who Masters All. Now, burn up like trash!"
"Ars Almadel Salomonis!"
- Rank: EX
- Type: Anti-Unit/Anti-Human Order Noble Phantasm
- Range: ?
- Maximum target: ? person
Goetia is able to manipulate this belt of light in order to collect, accelerate and converge portions of it, travelling through the timestream or otherwise influencing it.
Singularities
For his plan to work, Goetia needed to make cause and effect stop working, so he can set fire to multiple periods of time in history at the same time.
He enables this by destabilizing human history with Singularities. These are turning points in human history that he's sent Holy Grails (powerful magic artifacts) to change important historical events.
Reference of what Holy Grails can do
Creation
- Singularities are key turning points in human history that have been interfered with, causing aberrations in the timestream. Goetia's Incineration of Humanity involved seven primary Singularities
- Resolving individual singularities will not fix the timestream. Only resolving all seven will set things right
- Solomon caused some Singularities by sending his Demon Pillars to different eras to directly alter historical events
- Solomon sent one of these grails directly backwards through time to Babylon, and and removing it is especially necessary to keep human history from burning
- Goetia's singularities had such a profound effect on human history that it rippled to other timelines, and caused singularities to still pop up after he was defeated
- Singularities are cut off from the rest of the timeline, existing apart from the past or the future
- Singularities are immune to time paradoxes, so Ritsuka and Mash fighting soldiers in the past doesn't have any adverse affects
- Singularities are bound to a specific area, which can vary between the size of a city to the entire United States
Once human history is destabilized, Goetia 'sets fire' to every moment of it and lets it burn. The energy is then collected as "Spiritrons" (magical energy) and raw heat.
Of course, this has catastrophic affects on the timeline.
- Chaldeas lost its ability to sense the future, or detect the outside world - this was because there was no more outside world to detect, as Goetia's Incineration of Humanity destroyed the timeline
- Despite being able to Rayshift to different points in time, Chaldea can only travel between Singularities because the rest of the timeline has been eradicated
- The Incineration of Humanity also affected The Land of Shadows, a realm described as being sundered from the mortal world
- The Incineration of Humanity burned all biological matter on Earth across all points in time as fuel to reset the universe
- Goetia needed to create Singularities to in order to weaken "the strength of human history" enough to carry out the Incineration of Humanity. Singularities break up the timeline into fractured chunks, allowing for the paradox necessary to incinerate matter during all points in its existence
Finally, this energy is then channeled into Goetia's temple, and refined into bands of light that he can control and release at will. Either as weapons, or as fuel to for his ultimate goal: time travel to the creation of the Earth.
- Each Singularity Ritsuka and company travel to have a series of light bands encircling the sky present. These are around the size of North America
- These bands of light are the manifestation of Goetia's Noble Phantasm locking the rotation of the planet in place for the Incineration of Humanity
- Each individual band of light has comparable heat output to Artoria Alter's Holy Sword. The Noble Phantasm manifests hundreds of millions of them at once
- Ushiwakamaru Alter claims the band of light are the only thing that could destroy Tiamet's corrupted ocean
- One of the Demon Pillars claims it could be used to incinernate all the Heroic Spirits summoned to fight in the Temple of Time
- The bands of light could burn away the outer layers of the planet. Mash says nothing on Earth could match their energy output
- Manifests as a beam of light from the sky that clashes with Mash wielding Lord Camelot. While Mash is able to block the attack, it still vaporizes her through her shield
- After Goetia is defeated, the bands of light start to release their energy into the atmosphere with nobody to control them. Da Vinci says the effect of this would be like a supernova
- The magical energy circulated between the Trees of Emptiness, and channeled into the Atlantis Lostbelt to summon the Foreign God had already built up to the same level of power as the Bands of Light prior Chaldea entering it
- [Limit] Even if they were collected and used to attack Chaos, the Bands of Light wouldn't be able to destroy it
Ars Paulina: The Time of Crowning has Come, He is the One who Begins All
- Rank: A
- Type: Anti-World Noble Phantasm
- Range: 999
- Maximum target: ? person
Reality Marbles are essentially self-contained dimensions that 'paint over the world' in a given area. Here's a better schematic explaining what they do.
Physical Structure and Location
- His temple resides outside of time, and can only be found by tracking back its location from the Seventh Grail
- Chaldea pinpointing its location by analyzing Goetia's Seventh Grail also opens a back door for Goetia to locate him in turn, and it begins to pull him out of the timeline to itself
- Described as a "miniature model of the universe" containing no other celestial bodies, about the size of a cell when compared to the universe proper
- The temple lacks a concept of time. This property facilitated the Incineration of Humanity
- A recreation of the Temple is too cold for normal life to survive in it
- The route to the throne itself is blocked by a swirling tempest of "incalculable" amounts of magical energy, with Da Vinci believing Chaldea had to destroy areas around it to have a chance of getting through
- The temple has a similar composition as the Greater Grail of Fuyuki. It is made up of of Solomon's magic circuits, which form a small self-contained universe
- The throne is a giant magic summoning circle with planetary magecraft at its core
Ars Nova
- Rank: D
- Type: Anti-Unit Noble Phantasm
- Range: -
- Maximum target: 1 person
- Goetia prepared his endgoal feat from the Incineration of Humanity as a 'virtual Noble Phantasm' due to not knowing the purpose or how to activate the original
- This ultimate feat, which he would use all the energy collected by Ars Almadel Salomonis to accomplish, would have him travel 4.6 billion years into the past to the birth of the planet, where he would then change the starting conditions of the world so that death did not exist, with him supplanting the planet with his own body
- By having all his ten rings present between those worn by Goetia and himself, Solomon can recreate the legend of him giving all his rings back to God
- After using it, everything related to Solomon is wiped from existence and rendered inert. This includes Goetia himself as Solomon brought the Demon Gods together, as well as Solomon's rings, and Solmon's ability to be summoned as a Heroic Spirit
- Although this doesn't instantly kill Goetia, the Demon Pillars that make him up finally start to die for good, and start separating from the collective
Individual Demon Pillars - Unique Abilities
Flauros
- Flauros can change his shape between a human form, Lev Lainur, and his true Demon Pillar formFGO
- Lev has a spell similar to a Command Spell, controlling Caligula's actionsFGO
- Helped create SHEBA under Goetia's guidance, which is a failsafe to detect and act against Demon Pillars that go rogue from Goetia's collective, SHEBA is an observational lens that can sense the near-future, and could give Chaldea detailed information from inside of a bubble that absorbed all forms of normal radiation
Andras
After separating from Goetia, Andras gained a self-awareness and will to live, and escaped from the Temple of Time near-death, but died afterwards. Even then, its 'vindictive desires' remained as a corpse that could maintain a being by fusing to a Heroic Spirit, summoning and doing so with Chacha and Hijikata to create a singularity-like space.- The space created by Andras is completely disconnected from the past or future, and time inside of it doesn't progress, having carved the space out of time itself, or at least travelled to an existing space like this
- Nobukatsu used him in a ritual to summon a demonic castle where nothing inside can die, so that he and Nobunaga can live forever inside. It disappears when Andras is defeated
- Summons waves of corpses to fight Ritsuka and allies
Bael
- Somehow hacked into Ritsuka's Rayshift coordinates, which made all of his servants rayshifted with him go off in random directions and himself to spawn in hundreds of feet into the air
- While believing itself to be the heroic spirit Moriarty, Bael somehow fights Chaldea and disappears like a Heroic Spirit, only to re-appear as a demon pillar
- Learned how to fuse together Phantom and Heroic spirits, though Phantom Spirits cannot normally be summoned as complete entities
- Fused together being from multiple legends to create Hessian Lobo, granting it composite abilities such as the Invisible Man's invisibility
- Fused Moriarty with Der Freischütz, giving his weapon supernatural accuracy on the 7th shot, something that could even apply to objects as large as a meteor to make it strike Earth
- Moriarty uses this method to absorb the defeated Sherlock Holmes
Phenex
- As the Demon God of Death, he isn't detected by Chaldea's scans for life because he's technically dead
- Despite being killed by Ritsuka and his allies, re-appears later in the body of a nearby corpse, transforming back into its demonic form
- Constantly regenerates from being attacked by D'Eon, Fergus, and Astolfo
- Endures Caladbolg's vortex, which destroyed a floating island big enough to house an entire forest and a mountain
- [Limit] Is hit with Wu Zeitan's Noble Phantasm, and still fights while being afflicted with it
- The attack works by keeping Phenex in "state of both life and death", allowing Phenex to finally be weakenedand then killed
- Despite all of the above, it still has enough strength to try and attack Scheherazade, although it's killed with one last burst from Fergus' sword
"Huh, who would have known? ...Tragically short, and yet, strangely fascinating... So, this is what human life is..."
2023.06.02 17:06 Akfanboy project poppy ch 1
I sighed. So I'm gonna get reassigned huh? I'm not apart of the c.i.a's gun running, drug peddling, and the guerilla warfare division anymore eh? I guess I'll miss air america flights. I then recalibrated my prosthetic right arm using a Philips head screw driver. Open close. Open, close.
After a couple of seconds my arm was finally done recalibrating. I'm gonna miss my friends. But I'll never miss the humid areas of laos, Vietnam, and some parts of china. The golden triangle is so goddamned hot. Honestly I don't know if it's secretly a promotion or a demotion. Or possibly I'm gonna get fired, and killed.
I'll get my name scraped out of the national files. If I get fired the chances of getting dragged into a blacksite is high, and I'll get tripped by the guys on one of the blacksites.
Oh god. I remember the LSD torture. It's like being awake but not in control. It's like being stuck as a backseat driver as people do unspeakable stuff to me. Oh boy if the public knows about the MK ultra test 2 oh boy. The people are gonna riot. It's already 2040.
The world is on edge, and under foreign influence for over a decade now. From the end of the 20's intergalactic travelers, and companies came, and control most of the world's nations within just a span of two years. They have the guts to exploit our resources, and don't give a damn about what happens to us. They care about profits. Except for the 8 major powers most of the world is under alien control. The only nations that aren't under alien control are russia, china, The U.S.A, great Britain with their manpower advantage given Australia is a British vassal state, France, Canada, Israel, and lastly an unlikely power the African union made out of 7 of the most powerful nations in Africa before the arrival of the outsiders are the only remaining independent countries.
Most of the intelligence agencies are currently working together dealing drugs with the outsiders who visit us, giving weapons to guerilla fighters, and getting weapons from the outside. Ships from an unlikely ally an independent economic alliance of nations named the syndicate allows to us to get some weapons. As long as we sell them drugs, and perishables from earth. It turns out the syndicate likes drugs, coffee, and other stuff native to earth.
Some of our intelligence guys are chatting with the aliens. The guys who are exploiting our resources are called the consortium. They are a consort of companies, and a league that agrees on how to manipulate markets. These guys are basically the more unhinged version of the wall street guys, and a mix of the c.i.a.
I sighed. "This is gonna be a long day ahead of me."
I then smoked a cigar. The cigar calmed my nerves as I inhaled the nicotine. The addictive substance relaxes me. Plus lung cancer isn't a problem anymore considering we now have a solution on how to cure it. The alien companies gave us some of their tech to show their so called sympathy before they flooded economies with consumer goods from their companies, and controlled almost all of earths economies.
"So agent smith. This is your new partner." A c.i.a handler said to me.
I spat out some ash from my mouth, and complained. "The fuck are you giving me a newbie as a partner? And what the hell am I gonna to do to need a new partner. Rodriguez already was fine yet I'm stuck with a newbie?"
The handler laughed. "Oh heavens no. This is an a.i. Codename poppy. She's your new partner in crime. Because we are gonna send you as a diplomatic bodyguard to the syndicate."
"Oh hi! I'm poppy I'm an artificial intelligence created by the c.i.a, m.i.6, the g.r.u, the s.s.m, mossad, and the s.s.a." The human looking robot said.
The voice kinda sounds synthetic, and the tone is too happy. I kinda hate it. I hate that it gives off happy go lucky vibes. I don't mean to be a grouch but the happy go lucky guys always die first. It's kinda ironic in a fucked up way.
So this thing is an a.i kinda like g.w. An a.i made by the c.i.a. G.W have made the internet more tolerable, and friendly due to context. People back then always manipulated facts into their political goals, and ideals. People get the facts misconstrued for political reasons.
G.W was made after a game character that was so prophetic about the world in the future. M.G.S 2: Sons of liberty. It has the same function as g.w from mgs2. It gives facts in a non biased way. In a way where people don't get their feelings hurt when something is given to them in a factual, and non biased ways.
People used to manipulate facts for political correctness. Hiding the fact that they misinterpret the meaning of those words. The internet used to be a toxic, and a fucked up place before g.w. Like Jesus Christ the goddamn internet was filled with incels, and attention seekers using facts and misusing them for internet clout. It was a place where no one is invalidated but nobody was right. G.w put an end to that era. G.w is now living in a secluded server thanking us for it's creation. It was phased out after it asked to be replaced by another one because it was sick, and tired of correcting people that get the facts misconstrued. It got to the point that it begged the c.i.a, and annoyed the c.i.a to the point that it wanted to be put in a secluded server so it could live it's remaining days in relative leisure just because it begged the c.i.a director so many times that he would get spam calls from the a.i using his official phone number even in the middle of the night for three straight years.
Anyways back to discussion.
"So you're one of those advanced a.i's like g.w?" I asked just to be sure I'm not paired with a dumb a.i.
"Yup. I even passed the Turing test in flying colors. I can feel emotions, do something out of spite or anger, and can think for myself." Poppy said with a dog like innocence.
"So what can you do?" I asked.
"Well. I can fly planes, use guns even those that people can't use due to physiological differences, and hack computers without being near the target. I'm basically just an a.i that can be a jack of all traits if given a chance." Poppy said.
"Fine. But you'll do it my way or the high way." I told poppy with a commanding tone.
Poppy laughed. "Okay boomer."
I sighed. This is gonna be a long day. I'm old as shit but not a boomer.
"Woah. You guys are already going along greatly. Great for you." The handler snickered.
He then left, and left me with poppy.
I'm fucked. "So I'm gonna brief you about the world poppy. Through a song."
I then sang bo burnham's how the world works song.
"Hey, kids Today, we're gonna learn about the world The world that's around us is pretty amazing But how does it work? It must be complicated The secret is the world can only work When everything works together"
"A bee drinks from a flower And leaves with its pollen A squirrel in a tree spreads the seeds that have fallen Everything works together"
"The biggest elephant, the littlest fly The gophers underground, the birds in the sky And every single cricket, every fish in the sea"
"Gives what they can and gets what they need That is how the world works That is how the world works"
"From A to Zebra To the worms in the dirt That's how it works Hey everyone"
I then pulled out a sock, and made it into a puppet.
"Look who stopped by to say "hello" It's Socko Hey! Where you been, Socko?"
"I've been where I always am when you're not wearing me on your hand In a frightening, liminal space between states of being Not quite dead, not quite alive It's similar to a constant state of sleep paralysis"
"Socko, we were just talking about the world and how it works!"
"Boy, that sounds complicated! Do you have anything you'd wanna teach us about the world?"
"I wouldn't say anything that you Probably haven't already said yourself"
"I don't know about that, Socko How about you give it a try?"
"All right!"
"The simple narrative taught in every history class Is demonstrably false and pedagogically classist Don't you know the world is built with blood? And genocide and exploitation"
"The global network of capital essentially functions To separate the worker from the means of production And the FBI killed Martin Luther King Private property's inherently theft"
"And neoliberal fascists are destroying the left And every politician, every cop on the street Protects the interests of the pedophilic corporate elite"
"That is how the world works (really?) That is how the world works Genocide the Natives, say you got to it first"
"That's how it works"
"That's pretty intense?"
"No shit Sherlock."
"What can I do to help?"
"Read a book or something, I don't know Just don't burden me with the responsibility of educating you"
*It's incredibly exhausting"
"I'm sorry, Socko I was just trying to become a better person"
"Why do you rich fucking white people Insist on seeing every socio-political conflict Through the myopic lens of your own self-actualization?"
"This isn't about you So either get with it, or get out of the fucking way"
"Watch your mouth, buddy"
"Remember who's on whose hand here"
"But that's what I- Have you not been fucking listening? We are entrenched in a way (all right, all right)"
"Wait, wait, no please! I don't wanna go back, please, ugh, ugh, ugh I can't go, I can't go back Please, please, I'm sorry!"
"Are you gonna behave yourself?"
"Yes"
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, sir"
"Look at me"
"Yes, sir"
"That's better That is how the world works That is how the world works I hope you learned your lesson"
"I did and it hurt That's how it works"
NOOOOOOO!!!
Drags sock puppet into a pocket like some introvert getting dragged into socializing in bars by extroverts.
"So do you understand know?" I asked poppy.
"That everything is made under the blood of billions, and we shouldn't make their deaths be in vein?" Poppy said.
"Correct. And we shouldn't let outsiders make our choices for us. We should kick them out." I said like some isolationist American during the 1920's.
"Ironic isn't it smith. The c.i.a used to be anti socialist but look how the circumstances turned the American government into. A social democracy/merit based democracy where politicians are based in merit rather than popularity. Politicians are insentivised to change the world than burn it down like some of the old presidents did. Ironic that america became something it hated. A weird mesh of meritocracy, democracy, republican, liberaterian, and market socialist ideals. Some sort ideological mesh made by idealogs"
"And it's working with it's remaining two Allies, and former enemies just to defeat a foreign threat. How poetically ironic isn't it? I mean the CIA used to go schizo mode when they hear communist, and socialist ideals or hearing the word russians, and chinese are plotting something. Now the country it help grew became the very thing it sought to destroy. Morbidly ironic isn't it?" Poppy said with a meloncholic under tone.
"Yeah. Specially the stuff we do now." I said agreeing to the statement.
"But that's how the world works. Everything must change. Either you adapt or die." I said with a meloncholic under tone.
"So do you know where we are going?" I asked poppy.
I then puffed up my cigar. Sweet sweet nicotine.
"Back to america. In the space port in Austin Texas. I'm already done contacting the contact the handler gave to me. E.T.A 7 hours. Now let's go to the laostian military base 7 miles north from here. Our air america flight is waiting for us." Poppy said.
I sighed. "Come ride with me. I have a motorcycle a hundred meters from here."
We walked towards my motorcycle. I then puffed up my cigar smelling the nicotine.
So my life is about to change huh? Eh. I'm just gonna adapt. After all in this world it's either adapt or die.
Click, click, click
Motorcycle engine starts rumbling.
Poppy then held my waist. It's hands are cold as steel. Colder than even corpse. I sighed.
The highway was almost empty. Everyone was working a 10-8 job in one of the corporations that control laos. There was no land vehicles transporting goods because the aliens are using their tech to transport them underground. The road was almost abandoned except for the guys who have motorcycle hobbies. Anyways it doesn't matter. After all there's no traffic anymore.
The fresh breeze calmed my nerves. It made me feel alive. A motorcyclist drive by me and waved hello. I waved back at the motorcyclist. It's good to be on the road.
After a twenty minute drive we arrived at the military base. Another CIA agent greeted us, and escorted us to the flight.
"So you guys are the diplomatic bodyguards?" Asked the agent.
"Yup. That's what my handler told me." Poppy said.
"So your one of the newer a.i models eh. Ok. Just step right in. Plus the flight is rather boring. Just sleep while on flight to save energy." The agent told me.
I sighed. I threw away the cigar, and slept through the flight.
A few hours later...
I woke up arriving at Austin executive airport. Poppy just sat there watching me sleep like some sort of creep. It made me a little bit paranoid at the unflinching eyes that was watching me. But I ignored my instincts, and went outside.
After that I ate something for breakfast. A couple of pancakes, and chicken wings. Poppy looked at me with envy. I sighed.
"Can you eat? Do you need food to survive?" I asked.
"Well.... I need glucose to recharge my batteries. I can also use a charger but it would be suspicious. So the glucose to energy converter was made for special missions so that I wouldn't blow my cover."
Figured. Those guys in the CIA RnD team are making contengencies for every eventual event. I then ordered a plate of syrup covered pancakes.
Poppy looked at me smiling. I sighed.
An hour later...
We arrived at the space port. People walked around buying nicnacs, waiting for their flight, and just waited around for their family members that were coming back.
Another agent came up to me, and gave me two tickets.
"Here's the tickets. Also have this. You'll need it."
The agent then gave me some sort of high tech phone. Then out of knowhere something exploded.
I was knocked unconscious for a couple minutes. When I woke up I was getting dragged by poppy along with the agent that gave me the tickets. She shot back at incoming enemies using alien tech.
"Ugh..." As I said that I began coughing blood. I looked down I was bleeding. My left leg was missing. It was slowly bleeding due to a tourniquet, bandages, and some sealing foam. It was still bleeding but isn't bleeding as badly as to kill me in just a couple seconds.
Gunshots echoed in the space port. Agents shot back at the alien attackers. A fierce firefight began. Bright lights like something akin to RGB lights but in a epileptic way we're seen down the isles as screams of both alien, CIA, fbi, and fully kitted out port guards were slaughtered one by one.
Poppy dragged me, and the other agent to a bathroom. "Sit rep." I asked poppy.
"It seems to be a terrorist attack. I don't know why but they looked like alien mercenaries. The question is that did the consortium hired them to kill our diplomat. Good thing the diplomat hasn't arrived. I checked the agency message boards, and they said that good thing the diplomat was sick after getting food poisoning this morning. They are already talking about it. Some of them are even suggesting that the consortium did this attack." Poppy said.
"So the diplomat got lucky. But why the fuck would they attack our diplomat to the syndicate? I mean it's counter productive. We don't need their goods or services considering the people here would rather choose human companies rather than alien shady companies. I guess they must've know about our deals with them, and decided to start a shadow war. A war in the shadows. The companies of the consortium vs the remaining independent government's. Who ever wins controls all the resources in the world." I told poppy.
She nodded. "Good guess but no one really knows. It's so sudden. We need more info before we act against them."
"I'll patch you up in the meantime. I hurried the medical assistance I gave you a couple minutes ago. I was hurrying because this guy is saying we need to leave after he suffered minor bruises. You blunted most of the damaged for him because you were in front of the explosion. He was saved because you were blocking him from getting hit by shrapnel. I cut you're leg off. Sorry. It can't be saved considering it was barely hanging on the leg. Plus I was running out of time so I had to cut it before you bled out."
I sighed. "Okay. Just get my hk UmP 45 inside my arm. It's in second the compartment a secret compartment. In the upper arm. I have a few mags of it inside the compartment. Here's a screw driver to remove the lid."
I then gave poppy a screw driver hidden in my pants, and saw her unscrew the lid off. A ump 45, and fully loaded 4 mags came out dropping loudly on the floor.
"Now carry me to the danger. I would rather die than suffer for years being reminded of the sad reality that I lost an arm, and a leg every time I wake up." I morbidly joked to poppy.
"Are you sure? You're injured! Are you fucking suicidal?" Poppy, and the agent said.
"Did I stutter?"
The two of them sighed.
Poppy then carried me in her back, and the other agent used poppy as meat shields. The agent held a Barretta 93r. A burst fire weapon.
"Ready?" I said.
"Ugh. You're lucky I accepted your request dumbass."
"Yes."
I was being piggy back carried by poppy while the agent followed us.
"Tango 15 meters to the left." Poppy said.
I then activated burst fire, and shot at the direction given. When I saw an enemy I aimed for the center mass. But I instead hit the thorax killing the alien instantly.
"Kill confirms. Enemy is k.i.a."
"Tango 20 meters ahead."
I then aimed straight forward, and saw a bolt of light strike near me. It was close enough to feel the heat of the round. I shot back, and killed the alien instantly by hitting the alien in the lungs, and heart.
"Enemy is k.i.a"
Then I heard a three round burst coming from a Barretta. I looked back, and saw the agent kill an incoming enemy.
"Thanks. So what's your name?" I asked.
"Oh I haven't properly instroduced myself. My name is agent Carter." The agent/Carter said.
"Thanks Carter. My name is agent smith."
"No problem agent smith. We CIA agents got each other's backs. We must stick together."
"Guys tangos incoming coming from the left. ETA 20 seconds."
We then aimed our Guns, and waited for the enemy to arrive. When they eventually arrived we moved them down with burst fire. After that a couple national guard guys came up to us. They were probably chasing those aliens.
"Thanks." One of the national guards said.
"No problem"
We continued, and after two minutes of walking we walked into a firefight. I smiled.
"You know what to do." I said smiling.
"Third party them?"
"Yup."
I then turned on full auto, and began to spray, and pray.
After a few seconds of pulling the trigger my gun ran out of bullets. Carter also ran out of bullets in his magazine, and reloaded. 3 confirmed kills, and multiple missed or slightly injured.
Oh crap. Then a bolt of light past near me. Enough to the point my right cheek got minor burns.
"Duck!"
I then began to be dragged by poppy into cover. Carter also looked for cover, and dived into the nearest cover. I quickly reloaded the mag, and started shooting at the aliens again. I changed the selector back to burst fire to conserve ammo.
I aimed center mass at the enemies. A loud burst of .45 ACP rounds was heard as an enemy was hit in the thorax.
"Kill confirmed."
I continued, and shot enemies in either the arms, legs, the thorax, or the chest.
After three minutes the firefight ended.
"Other sectors secured. All area's are currently in our control. Over 700 people died, 1720 were injured, and some were missing. Military and government casualties are 124 KIA'd, 24 severely injured, 57 mildly injured, and 38 MIA'd." Poppy said smiling.
Then paramedics rushed into the scene. People were rushed into nearby hospitals while I was dragged by a undercover CIA paramedic to a government safe house along with poppy, and Carter.
A week later…
I was standing in the military cemetery in Arlington national cemetery. Where soldiers who died without any identifications are buried. I saw burials around me. Soldiers who died without any family members, soldiers disowned by family, and other such things. But hey it's just the life of a soldier. That's what I know at least. From ranger grunt to c.i.a grunt. I was disowned by my parents who were conservatives, and highly religious because I was going to sacrifice my place in heaven to save some heathens from the middle east. I never regretted my actions. I saved lives, and ended some. No guts no glory after all.
Some of the people getting buried got medal of honors. Saving comrades in need of dire help in exchange for their lives, soldiers who rescued civilians in exchange for their own lives, and soldiers who honorably fought on to save others even faced with hard decisions.
I saluted the unknown soldiers for their bravery, and honor. In the background poppy, and Carter were talking. But that wasn't important. Bagpipes, trumpets, and drums play as the unknown soldiers get burried with their medals. The grave sentinels saluted while burying the dead. Gunshots in the honor of the dead was heard as the unknown soldiers got buried while being watched by the people who those soldiers saved.
After that I returned to head quarters with a prosthetic leg, and talked to my handler. Poppy, and Carter went back to the safehouse just to talk.
"Oh hi smith." My handler captain david said.
"Hi David."
"Here's another purple heart medal, and a bronze star medal." David then tossed the medals towards me.
"That's your what? 22nd and 23rd medal? Bravo congrats smith."
"I'm gonna ask you sometime David."
"Ask away smith."
"When will i get sent as a diplomatic bodyguard?"
"About three weeks from now. Also agent Carter is gonna be one of your partners for the mission."
I sighed. Figured.
"So who was behind the terror attack David?"
"Honestly. The CIA search the crime scene, and saw that the consortium blatantly did that. The mercenaries worked under one of the companies in the consortium. But for the public it's gonna be announced tonight that a rogue consortium PMC did that so we wouldn't provoke them too much."
"It's gonna be a long day smith."
"Yeah David."
Then David gave me a cigar.
"Wanna smoke?"
I nodded.
To be continued…
submitted by Akfanboy to HFY [link] [comments]
After a couple of seconds my arm was finally done recalibrating. I'm gonna miss my friends. But I'll never miss the humid areas of laos, Vietnam, and some parts of china. The golden triangle is so goddamned hot. Honestly I don't know if it's secretly a promotion or a demotion. Or possibly I'm gonna get fired, and killed.
I'll get my name scraped out of the national files. If I get fired the chances of getting dragged into a blacksite is high, and I'll get tripped by the guys on one of the blacksites.
Oh god. I remember the LSD torture. It's like being awake but not in control. It's like being stuck as a backseat driver as people do unspeakable stuff to me. Oh boy if the public knows about the MK ultra test 2 oh boy. The people are gonna riot. It's already 2040.
The world is on edge, and under foreign influence for over a decade now. From the end of the 20's intergalactic travelers, and companies came, and control most of the world's nations within just a span of two years. They have the guts to exploit our resources, and don't give a damn about what happens to us. They care about profits. Except for the 8 major powers most of the world is under alien control. The only nations that aren't under alien control are russia, china, The U.S.A, great Britain with their manpower advantage given Australia is a British vassal state, France, Canada, Israel, and lastly an unlikely power the African union made out of 7 of the most powerful nations in Africa before the arrival of the outsiders are the only remaining independent countries.
Most of the intelligence agencies are currently working together dealing drugs with the outsiders who visit us, giving weapons to guerilla fighters, and getting weapons from the outside. Ships from an unlikely ally an independent economic alliance of nations named the syndicate allows to us to get some weapons. As long as we sell them drugs, and perishables from earth. It turns out the syndicate likes drugs, coffee, and other stuff native to earth.
Some of our intelligence guys are chatting with the aliens. The guys who are exploiting our resources are called the consortium. They are a consort of companies, and a league that agrees on how to manipulate markets. These guys are basically the more unhinged version of the wall street guys, and a mix of the c.i.a.
I sighed. "This is gonna be a long day ahead of me."
I then smoked a cigar. The cigar calmed my nerves as I inhaled the nicotine. The addictive substance relaxes me. Plus lung cancer isn't a problem anymore considering we now have a solution on how to cure it. The alien companies gave us some of their tech to show their so called sympathy before they flooded economies with consumer goods from their companies, and controlled almost all of earths economies.
"So agent smith. This is your new partner." A c.i.a handler said to me.
I spat out some ash from my mouth, and complained. "The fuck are you giving me a newbie as a partner? And what the hell am I gonna to do to need a new partner. Rodriguez already was fine yet I'm stuck with a newbie?"
The handler laughed. "Oh heavens no. This is an a.i. Codename poppy. She's your new partner in crime. Because we are gonna send you as a diplomatic bodyguard to the syndicate."
"Oh hi! I'm poppy I'm an artificial intelligence created by the c.i.a, m.i.6, the g.r.u, the s.s.m, mossad, and the s.s.a." The human looking robot said.
The voice kinda sounds synthetic, and the tone is too happy. I kinda hate it. I hate that it gives off happy go lucky vibes. I don't mean to be a grouch but the happy go lucky guys always die first. It's kinda ironic in a fucked up way.
So this thing is an a.i kinda like g.w. An a.i made by the c.i.a. G.W have made the internet more tolerable, and friendly due to context. People back then always manipulated facts into their political goals, and ideals. People get the facts misconstrued for political reasons.
G.W was made after a game character that was so prophetic about the world in the future. M.G.S 2: Sons of liberty. It has the same function as g.w from mgs2. It gives facts in a non biased way. In a way where people don't get their feelings hurt when something is given to them in a factual, and non biased ways.
People used to manipulate facts for political correctness. Hiding the fact that they misinterpret the meaning of those words. The internet used to be a toxic, and a fucked up place before g.w. Like Jesus Christ the goddamn internet was filled with incels, and attention seekers using facts and misusing them for internet clout. It was a place where no one is invalidated but nobody was right. G.w put an end to that era. G.w is now living in a secluded server thanking us for it's creation. It was phased out after it asked to be replaced by another one because it was sick, and tired of correcting people that get the facts misconstrued. It got to the point that it begged the c.i.a, and annoyed the c.i.a to the point that it wanted to be put in a secluded server so it could live it's remaining days in relative leisure just because it begged the c.i.a director so many times that he would get spam calls from the a.i using his official phone number even in the middle of the night for three straight years.
Anyways back to discussion.
"So you're one of those advanced a.i's like g.w?" I asked just to be sure I'm not paired with a dumb a.i.
"Yup. I even passed the Turing test in flying colors. I can feel emotions, do something out of spite or anger, and can think for myself." Poppy said with a dog like innocence.
"So what can you do?" I asked.
"Well. I can fly planes, use guns even those that people can't use due to physiological differences, and hack computers without being near the target. I'm basically just an a.i that can be a jack of all traits if given a chance." Poppy said.
"Fine. But you'll do it my way or the high way." I told poppy with a commanding tone.
Poppy laughed. "Okay boomer."
I sighed. This is gonna be a long day. I'm old as shit but not a boomer.
"Woah. You guys are already going along greatly. Great for you." The handler snickered.
He then left, and left me with poppy.
I'm fucked. "So I'm gonna brief you about the world poppy. Through a song."
I then sang bo burnham's how the world works song.
"Hey, kids Today, we're gonna learn about the world The world that's around us is pretty amazing But how does it work? It must be complicated The secret is the world can only work When everything works together"
"A bee drinks from a flower And leaves with its pollen A squirrel in a tree spreads the seeds that have fallen Everything works together"
"The biggest elephant, the littlest fly The gophers underground, the birds in the sky And every single cricket, every fish in the sea"
"Gives what they can and gets what they need That is how the world works That is how the world works"
"From A to Zebra To the worms in the dirt That's how it works Hey everyone"
I then pulled out a sock, and made it into a puppet.
"Look who stopped by to say "hello" It's Socko Hey! Where you been, Socko?"
"I've been where I always am when you're not wearing me on your hand In a frightening, liminal space between states of being Not quite dead, not quite alive It's similar to a constant state of sleep paralysis"
"Socko, we were just talking about the world and how it works!"
"Boy, that sounds complicated! Do you have anything you'd wanna teach us about the world?"
"I wouldn't say anything that you Probably haven't already said yourself"
"I don't know about that, Socko How about you give it a try?"
"All right!"
"The simple narrative taught in every history class Is demonstrably false and pedagogically classist Don't you know the world is built with blood? And genocide and exploitation"
"The global network of capital essentially functions To separate the worker from the means of production And the FBI killed Martin Luther King Private property's inherently theft"
"And neoliberal fascists are destroying the left And every politician, every cop on the street Protects the interests of the pedophilic corporate elite"
"That is how the world works (really?) That is how the world works Genocide the Natives, say you got to it first"
"That's how it works"
"That's pretty intense?"
"No shit Sherlock."
"What can I do to help?"
"Read a book or something, I don't know Just don't burden me with the responsibility of educating you"
*It's incredibly exhausting"
"I'm sorry, Socko I was just trying to become a better person"
"Why do you rich fucking white people Insist on seeing every socio-political conflict Through the myopic lens of your own self-actualization?"
"This isn't about you So either get with it, or get out of the fucking way"
"Watch your mouth, buddy"
"Remember who's on whose hand here"
"But that's what I- Have you not been fucking listening? We are entrenched in a way (all right, all right)"
"Wait, wait, no please! I don't wanna go back, please, ugh, ugh, ugh I can't go, I can't go back Please, please, I'm sorry!"
"Are you gonna behave yourself?"
"Yes"
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, sir"
"Look at me"
"Yes, sir"
"That's better That is how the world works That is how the world works I hope you learned your lesson"
"I did and it hurt That's how it works"
NOOOOOOO!!!
Drags sock puppet into a pocket like some introvert getting dragged into socializing in bars by extroverts.
"So do you understand know?" I asked poppy.
"That everything is made under the blood of billions, and we shouldn't make their deaths be in vein?" Poppy said.
"Correct. And we shouldn't let outsiders make our choices for us. We should kick them out." I said like some isolationist American during the 1920's.
"Ironic isn't it smith. The c.i.a used to be anti socialist but look how the circumstances turned the American government into. A social democracy/merit based democracy where politicians are based in merit rather than popularity. Politicians are insentivised to change the world than burn it down like some of the old presidents did. Ironic that america became something it hated. A weird mesh of meritocracy, democracy, republican, liberaterian, and market socialist ideals. Some sort ideological mesh made by idealogs"
"And it's working with it's remaining two Allies, and former enemies just to defeat a foreign threat. How poetically ironic isn't it? I mean the CIA used to go schizo mode when they hear communist, and socialist ideals or hearing the word russians, and chinese are plotting something. Now the country it help grew became the very thing it sought to destroy. Morbidly ironic isn't it?" Poppy said with a meloncholic under tone.
"Yeah. Specially the stuff we do now." I said agreeing to the statement.
"But that's how the world works. Everything must change. Either you adapt or die." I said with a meloncholic under tone.
"So do you know where we are going?" I asked poppy.
I then puffed up my cigar. Sweet sweet nicotine.
"Back to america. In the space port in Austin Texas. I'm already done contacting the contact the handler gave to me. E.T.A 7 hours. Now let's go to the laostian military base 7 miles north from here. Our air america flight is waiting for us." Poppy said.
I sighed. "Come ride with me. I have a motorcycle a hundred meters from here."
We walked towards my motorcycle. I then puffed up my cigar smelling the nicotine.
So my life is about to change huh? Eh. I'm just gonna adapt. After all in this world it's either adapt or die.
Click, click, click
Motorcycle engine starts rumbling.
Poppy then held my waist. It's hands are cold as steel. Colder than even corpse. I sighed.
The highway was almost empty. Everyone was working a 10-8 job in one of the corporations that control laos. There was no land vehicles transporting goods because the aliens are using their tech to transport them underground. The road was almost abandoned except for the guys who have motorcycle hobbies. Anyways it doesn't matter. After all there's no traffic anymore.
The fresh breeze calmed my nerves. It made me feel alive. A motorcyclist drive by me and waved hello. I waved back at the motorcyclist. It's good to be on the road.
After a twenty minute drive we arrived at the military base. Another CIA agent greeted us, and escorted us to the flight.
"So you guys are the diplomatic bodyguards?" Asked the agent.
"Yup. That's what my handler told me." Poppy said.
"So your one of the newer a.i models eh. Ok. Just step right in. Plus the flight is rather boring. Just sleep while on flight to save energy." The agent told me.
I sighed. I threw away the cigar, and slept through the flight.
A few hours later...
I woke up arriving at Austin executive airport. Poppy just sat there watching me sleep like some sort of creep. It made me a little bit paranoid at the unflinching eyes that was watching me. But I ignored my instincts, and went outside.
After that I ate something for breakfast. A couple of pancakes, and chicken wings. Poppy looked at me with envy. I sighed.
"Can you eat? Do you need food to survive?" I asked.
"Well.... I need glucose to recharge my batteries. I can also use a charger but it would be suspicious. So the glucose to energy converter was made for special missions so that I wouldn't blow my cover."
Figured. Those guys in the CIA RnD team are making contengencies for every eventual event. I then ordered a plate of syrup covered pancakes.
Poppy looked at me smiling. I sighed.
An hour later...
We arrived at the space port. People walked around buying nicnacs, waiting for their flight, and just waited around for their family members that were coming back.
Another agent came up to me, and gave me two tickets.
"Here's the tickets. Also have this. You'll need it."
The agent then gave me some sort of high tech phone. Then out of knowhere something exploded.
I was knocked unconscious for a couple minutes. When I woke up I was getting dragged by poppy along with the agent that gave me the tickets. She shot back at incoming enemies using alien tech.
"Ugh..." As I said that I began coughing blood. I looked down I was bleeding. My left leg was missing. It was slowly bleeding due to a tourniquet, bandages, and some sealing foam. It was still bleeding but isn't bleeding as badly as to kill me in just a couple seconds.
Gunshots echoed in the space port. Agents shot back at the alien attackers. A fierce firefight began. Bright lights like something akin to RGB lights but in a epileptic way we're seen down the isles as screams of both alien, CIA, fbi, and fully kitted out port guards were slaughtered one by one.
Poppy dragged me, and the other agent to a bathroom. "Sit rep." I asked poppy.
"It seems to be a terrorist attack. I don't know why but they looked like alien mercenaries. The question is that did the consortium hired them to kill our diplomat. Good thing the diplomat hasn't arrived. I checked the agency message boards, and they said that good thing the diplomat was sick after getting food poisoning this morning. They are already talking about it. Some of them are even suggesting that the consortium did this attack." Poppy said.
"So the diplomat got lucky. But why the fuck would they attack our diplomat to the syndicate? I mean it's counter productive. We don't need their goods or services considering the people here would rather choose human companies rather than alien shady companies. I guess they must've know about our deals with them, and decided to start a shadow war. A war in the shadows. The companies of the consortium vs the remaining independent government's. Who ever wins controls all the resources in the world." I told poppy.
She nodded. "Good guess but no one really knows. It's so sudden. We need more info before we act against them."
"I'll patch you up in the meantime. I hurried the medical assistance I gave you a couple minutes ago. I was hurrying because this guy is saying we need to leave after he suffered minor bruises. You blunted most of the damaged for him because you were in front of the explosion. He was saved because you were blocking him from getting hit by shrapnel. I cut you're leg off. Sorry. It can't be saved considering it was barely hanging on the leg. Plus I was running out of time so I had to cut it before you bled out."
I sighed. "Okay. Just get my hk UmP 45 inside my arm. It's in second the compartment a secret compartment. In the upper arm. I have a few mags of it inside the compartment. Here's a screw driver to remove the lid."
I then gave poppy a screw driver hidden in my pants, and saw her unscrew the lid off. A ump 45, and fully loaded 4 mags came out dropping loudly on the floor.
"Now carry me to the danger. I would rather die than suffer for years being reminded of the sad reality that I lost an arm, and a leg every time I wake up." I morbidly joked to poppy.
"Are you sure? You're injured! Are you fucking suicidal?" Poppy, and the agent said.
"Did I stutter?"
The two of them sighed.
Poppy then carried me in her back, and the other agent used poppy as meat shields. The agent held a Barretta 93r. A burst fire weapon.
"Ready?" I said.
"Ugh. You're lucky I accepted your request dumbass."
"Yes."
I was being piggy back carried by poppy while the agent followed us.
"Tango 15 meters to the left." Poppy said.
I then activated burst fire, and shot at the direction given. When I saw an enemy I aimed for the center mass. But I instead hit the thorax killing the alien instantly.
"Kill confirms. Enemy is k.i.a."
"Tango 20 meters ahead."
I then aimed straight forward, and saw a bolt of light strike near me. It was close enough to feel the heat of the round. I shot back, and killed the alien instantly by hitting the alien in the lungs, and heart.
"Enemy is k.i.a"
Then I heard a three round burst coming from a Barretta. I looked back, and saw the agent kill an incoming enemy.
"Thanks. So what's your name?" I asked.
"Oh I haven't properly instroduced myself. My name is agent Carter." The agent/Carter said.
"Thanks Carter. My name is agent smith."
"No problem agent smith. We CIA agents got each other's backs. We must stick together."
"Guys tangos incoming coming from the left. ETA 20 seconds."
We then aimed our Guns, and waited for the enemy to arrive. When they eventually arrived we moved them down with burst fire. After that a couple national guard guys came up to us. They were probably chasing those aliens.
"Thanks." One of the national guards said.
"No problem"
We continued, and after two minutes of walking we walked into a firefight. I smiled.
"You know what to do." I said smiling.
"Third party them?"
"Yup."
I then turned on full auto, and began to spray, and pray.
After a few seconds of pulling the trigger my gun ran out of bullets. Carter also ran out of bullets in his magazine, and reloaded. 3 confirmed kills, and multiple missed or slightly injured.
Oh crap. Then a bolt of light past near me. Enough to the point my right cheek got minor burns.
"Duck!"
I then began to be dragged by poppy into cover. Carter also looked for cover, and dived into the nearest cover. I quickly reloaded the mag, and started shooting at the aliens again. I changed the selector back to burst fire to conserve ammo.
I aimed center mass at the enemies. A loud burst of .45 ACP rounds was heard as an enemy was hit in the thorax.
"Kill confirmed."
I continued, and shot enemies in either the arms, legs, the thorax, or the chest.
After three minutes the firefight ended.
"Other sectors secured. All area's are currently in our control. Over 700 people died, 1720 were injured, and some were missing. Military and government casualties are 124 KIA'd, 24 severely injured, 57 mildly injured, and 38 MIA'd." Poppy said smiling.
Then paramedics rushed into the scene. People were rushed into nearby hospitals while I was dragged by a undercover CIA paramedic to a government safe house along with poppy, and Carter.
A week later…
I was standing in the military cemetery in Arlington national cemetery. Where soldiers who died without any identifications are buried. I saw burials around me. Soldiers who died without any family members, soldiers disowned by family, and other such things. But hey it's just the life of a soldier. That's what I know at least. From ranger grunt to c.i.a grunt. I was disowned by my parents who were conservatives, and highly religious because I was going to sacrifice my place in heaven to save some heathens from the middle east. I never regretted my actions. I saved lives, and ended some. No guts no glory after all.
Some of the people getting buried got medal of honors. Saving comrades in need of dire help in exchange for their lives, soldiers who rescued civilians in exchange for their own lives, and soldiers who honorably fought on to save others even faced with hard decisions.
I saluted the unknown soldiers for their bravery, and honor. In the background poppy, and Carter were talking. But that wasn't important. Bagpipes, trumpets, and drums play as the unknown soldiers get burried with their medals. The grave sentinels saluted while burying the dead. Gunshots in the honor of the dead was heard as the unknown soldiers got buried while being watched by the people who those soldiers saved.
After that I returned to head quarters with a prosthetic leg, and talked to my handler. Poppy, and Carter went back to the safehouse just to talk.
"Oh hi smith." My handler captain david said.
"Hi David."
"Here's another purple heart medal, and a bronze star medal." David then tossed the medals towards me.
"That's your what? 22nd and 23rd medal? Bravo congrats smith."
"I'm gonna ask you sometime David."
"Ask away smith."
"When will i get sent as a diplomatic bodyguard?"
"About three weeks from now. Also agent Carter is gonna be one of your partners for the mission."
I sighed. Figured.
"So who was behind the terror attack David?"
"Honestly. The CIA search the crime scene, and saw that the consortium blatantly did that. The mercenaries worked under one of the companies in the consortium. But for the public it's gonna be announced tonight that a rogue consortium PMC did that so we wouldn't provoke them too much."
"It's gonna be a long day smith."
"Yeah David."
Then David gave me a cigar.
"Wanna smoke?"
I nodded.
To be continued…
2023.06.02 17:05 Key9909 Feeling small and humiliated
(Long read, just letting it all out)
I (24F) was just working. I had an exam for an elective course the next day. For the first time since high school I was actually understanding probability and was having fun doing it, I was legit excited for the exam. I had a schedule and all, I was going to study during the first half of the day and work on my thesis in the second half.
He came up behind me out of nowhere. I didn't hear him at first since I had my ear plugs in. When I took one out, he said "you're very beautiful". I even found myself give a quick smile thinking/hoping this was a quick compliment from a stranger where you say a polite thanks and they walk away. But he started getting closer and closer. He asked where I was from, I gave a vague reply that I'd been living here for a while. I don't know why my voice barely made it out at this point already. He asked again where I was from in a louder voice, this time I answered. He said "of course". Then he asked if I'd go for a coffee with him while taking another step forward. In the same breath he asked what time it was, took another step forward to look at the time over my laptop, and himself even suggested/commanded a time an hour later.
I managed to mumble that unfortunately I was just about leaving but I couldn't even finish the word "leaving". "Oh yeah anything, anything to get out of this. What, so I am just a loser?" I tried finding my voice, I wanted to say that he was quite brave coming up to a stranger and expressing his feelings but I had only managed to say "you're quite brave" when he interrupted again saying "yeah I know I'm brave. And you're a loser, you've lost at life and at love".
I managed to find my anger at this point and my voice somewhat. I also knew he was beneath me to interact with so I gave a smile and said yes sure I am the loser. He said something, I had stopped listening at this point, but while walking away he touched my shoulder in an "oh okay bye" way and tapped me on my head (I was sitting and he was standing).
It felt like a hole had burnt in the 2 very small spots on my body that he had touched. Like I had to immediately scrub those spots with soap and the harshest washcloth. I tried to be defiant in the way that I didn't immediately leave, I left when I told him I had to leave in the very beginning of the conversation because I knew he was watching me. He stood close by and watched me leave. I had to constantly look over my shoulder to make sure I wasn't being followed. I wasn't.
I got the lowest grade I've ever gotten in my exam the next day. Our grade scale goes from 0-5 with 0 being fail. I've gotten 4s and 5s. I had a 4.45 GPA. I got a 1 from my exam. This exam is a prerequisite for my next degree. I knew how to do those questions, I'd done them a bunch, but I couldn't. I couldn't study the remaining chapters that I had to. I missed the deadline to send in the 1st draft of my thesis.
I felt so small, so humiliated when he was talking to me. I felt like I had lost my voice. I'd been having a tough time already with some family stuff. Then this happened.
I didn't want to be entirely hopeless so I did go to the library today. But I couldn't get anything done. I found my constantly looking around and over my shoulder, being distracted by the sound of anyone coming in. The fuck is this shit?
submitted by Key9909 to TrueOffMyChest [link] [comments]
I (24F) was just working. I had an exam for an elective course the next day. For the first time since high school I was actually understanding probability and was having fun doing it, I was legit excited for the exam. I had a schedule and all, I was going to study during the first half of the day and work on my thesis in the second half.
He came up behind me out of nowhere. I didn't hear him at first since I had my ear plugs in. When I took one out, he said "you're very beautiful". I even found myself give a quick smile thinking/hoping this was a quick compliment from a stranger where you say a polite thanks and they walk away. But he started getting closer and closer. He asked where I was from, I gave a vague reply that I'd been living here for a while. I don't know why my voice barely made it out at this point already. He asked again where I was from in a louder voice, this time I answered. He said "of course". Then he asked if I'd go for a coffee with him while taking another step forward. In the same breath he asked what time it was, took another step forward to look at the time over my laptop, and himself even suggested/commanded a time an hour later.
I managed to mumble that unfortunately I was just about leaving but I couldn't even finish the word "leaving". "Oh yeah anything, anything to get out of this. What, so I am just a loser?" I tried finding my voice, I wanted to say that he was quite brave coming up to a stranger and expressing his feelings but I had only managed to say "you're quite brave" when he interrupted again saying "yeah I know I'm brave. And you're a loser, you've lost at life and at love".
I managed to find my anger at this point and my voice somewhat. I also knew he was beneath me to interact with so I gave a smile and said yes sure I am the loser. He said something, I had stopped listening at this point, but while walking away he touched my shoulder in an "oh okay bye" way and tapped me on my head (I was sitting and he was standing).
It felt like a hole had burnt in the 2 very small spots on my body that he had touched. Like I had to immediately scrub those spots with soap and the harshest washcloth. I tried to be defiant in the way that I didn't immediately leave, I left when I told him I had to leave in the very beginning of the conversation because I knew he was watching me. He stood close by and watched me leave. I had to constantly look over my shoulder to make sure I wasn't being followed. I wasn't.
I got the lowest grade I've ever gotten in my exam the next day. Our grade scale goes from 0-5 with 0 being fail. I've gotten 4s and 5s. I had a 4.45 GPA. I got a 1 from my exam. This exam is a prerequisite for my next degree. I knew how to do those questions, I'd done them a bunch, but I couldn't. I couldn't study the remaining chapters that I had to. I missed the deadline to send in the 1st draft of my thesis.
I felt so small, so humiliated when he was talking to me. I felt like I had lost my voice. I'd been having a tough time already with some family stuff. Then this happened.
I didn't want to be entirely hopeless so I did go to the library today. But I couldn't get anything done. I found my constantly looking around and over my shoulder, being distracted by the sound of anyone coming in. The fuck is this shit?
2023.06.02 17:01 endersgame69 Kayobi's Days Off C13
“There you go.” I said and smiled a little as I handed the bag to the customer. He gave me a shy little bow and headed for the door. I was actually impressed he could bring himself to do that much. Chiefly because his purchase was one of the dirty magazines from the center aisle. His ‘friend’ clearly lacked the same courage and was standing there just on the other side ‘reading’. If you want to call it that, that is.
I had to admit, Suki knew how to arrange her store, I never thought about it before, but the aisles with ‘that’ material was facing ‘away’ from the register and had another pair of parallel aisles on either side of it, and two running perpendicular thus affording the patron some small degree of ‘privacy’ by letting them feel like they’re boxed in.
Those who visited that aisle as the day went on seemed to buy ‘those’ magazines roughly eight times out of ten, an exceptional ratio. I knew it was exceptional because tragically I have sometimes been forced to run errands for myself. When that does happen, I’ve seen what people do in the stores, I’ve seen those naughty magazines here and there, and I’ve seen young people walk by, eyeing those anxiously, desperately even.
But seldom did they buy even though they wanted to, they didn’t have the courage to look, so they couldn’t take the next step. It’s funny how that works, it really is.
Suki got them to look at it, and therefore usually got them to buy.
My estimation of my friend went up another notch. I smiled when I thought about her, she was always offering me work. Always a kind word. Always encouraging me. ‘You’re a smart girl, you could do anything you want with your life. You don’t have to just lie around and wait for life to happen, come work at my store, that way you can take care of yourself better.’
Of course there were rumors that I was rich, I was after all, a foreigner living in this country with no job, there’s no way I was getting public assistance. It was hard not to like Suki’s motherly attitude toward me, who she saw as a wayward young woman frittering away her days.
But I had no idea Suki was so savvy about her business, right down to where she put the naughty things that Jin probably snuck looks at whenever he could, like most boys his age.
The ding of a new customer caught my ear and I looked over to see a slew of students stroll in, then darted my eyes to the clock. ‘Really? That long?’ I asked myself, somehow the day had just slipped past without my noticing.
Maybe because there was always something to do, check the shelves, wipe up a spill, process a transaction… The time had slipped past with hardly a blip, and now it was later in the afternoon and school was out. I looked past the gaggle of young boys and girls to the clear day outside. Jin wouldn’t be with them, he’d be spending at least a few hours in cram school. I normally wouldn’t see him, if at all, for a few more hours.
You’d think he’d get more help with his math and other subjects there, but? For some reason he liked to ask me.
I waved to the students coming in and listened while they chattered away about whatever school drama had them occupied today. “Welcome to Toriyama’s.” I said, and then my brow furrowed not one minute later when Jin Toriyama walked in with the look of a stunned bunny on his face.
“Wha- why?” He asked, and then his eyes caught me behind the counter.
“Kayobi?!” He exclaimed and strode swiftly over the floor to stand across from me.
I snorted. “Yeah. That’s my name. Can I help you find something?” I couldn’t resist the urge. I wanted to mess with him a little.
“Wh-What are you doing here?” He stumbled over his words as he rushed them out.
“Would you believe I’m counting how many dirty magazines I see young boys buy?” I asked with a smirk, and as he turned red in the face I added, “So, what’s your number? Or do you just sneak peaks at them?”
“Ah, wha- I don’t… you can’t… this isn’t-” He stammered and stuttered and shook as he was flustered, and I did all that I could to restrain myself from laughter.
“Some of those were words. But you need to put them together right, come on, you can do it, you’re a big boy!” I clapped my hands to urge him on.
“I… why are you here?!” He demanded, his voice going up a bit in pitch as his flusteredness overtook him.
“Because here is where I take the money for the stuff people want to buy, dummy.” I said with a smirk, “Surely you’ve worked here long enough to know that.”
“That’s not what I mean, you…” He stopped, he searched for something to call me, “you!” He finally finished.
“Brilliant retort. This is why you shouldn’t be quitting cram school.” I said with a straight face.
“But… but how did you get the key?” He asked and put his hand into the pocket of his dark pants like he was checking to see if his copy was still there.
“I went by to see your mom, she gave it to me, I offered to handle the place until she gets out. She gave me her copy.” I answered, “What, did you think I broke in here?” I smirked a little, losing my deadpan expression and I struck a prowler pose, hunched over with fingers turned down and pantomimed some creeping steps. “Yes, you caught me, my secret identity is Kayobi the catburglar, and I’m so good at breaking and entering that I don’t even need a toolkit. I just teleport.”
“But…” He paused, looked over his shoulder to see that the other students who went in before him were busy elsewhere in the store, then leaned toward me and said, “How is she paying you.”
“Wait… we’re supposed to get paid? Is that why people work?” I asked and covered my open mouth with one hand, “I am shocked. Just… shocked… nay, dumbfounded! I have found the dumb, so stunned am I.”
All he could do was blink at me, so I finally showed the poor boy some mercy, “Relax, I told her I’d do it for free. When she gets out of the hospital she can just do my laundry and make a few meals and we’ll call it square.”
“I-I-I didn’t expect to find my Buddah in hell today…” He stammered, but I just shrugged it off.
“I just don’t want to do chores. So don’t worry about it. Go on and head back to cram school, you’ll be late, but just tell them you’re late because you got bitten by a stray dog or something.” I said, and he blinked at me again as he processed what I said.
“That’s… not how that expression works… not exactly, anyway.” He muttered and I reached up and flipped my orangish hair back with one hand to remind him I’m not from here.
Some of my colleagues asked me once why I don’t disguise myself as somebody who looks like everybody in the neighborhood and whatnot. And the answer is pretty simple. From my colleagues' perspective, if you look like everyone else, you blend in perfectly.
But that’s why I’m better than all of them at my job. It’s not enough to look like people, you have to act like them too, and cultural norms touch everything. On one world, when you’re about to enter a room you’ve never been to, you always tap your foot three times to let the spirits inside know you’re coming. Don’t do that, and people will know you’re a fraud, or at least you’ll stand out in a negative way.
On another world, every first meeting between strangers involves an extensive discussion of ancestry to try to find some common ground and minimize the chance of violence. If I were to go there disguised as one of those, I’d fall flat and get into trouble fast.
But when you’re obviously foreign, people excuse your ignorance as, ‘Well they’re not from here, of course they don’t know better.’
So misusing an expression slightly draws no notice. Thus I blend in by standing out.
Yeah, I’m the best. “Whatever.” I smirked at Jin and gave him a gentle punch on the shoulder, “Hurry up and get back, University waits for no one, and neither do the teachers here, I’ll lock up tonight when I’m done.” I promised.
Jin’s entire body shook, his lower lip quivered, “If you’re not going to buy something, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
His eyes were full of tears, and he shouted, “Thank you!” He then bowed at the waist, turned, and ran out of the store as fast as his feet could carry him.
Various heads turned toward me, he’d come in after the others rather than with them, so it didn’t seem like they realized who he was, and his voice had such an emotional crack to it he must have sounded like a stranger.
I snorted, “It’s nothing, I just promised not to tell his mother about the dirty magazine he bought.”
I recognized some of the kids in the story, and I saw relief flood the faces of the young males who promptly flocked to ‘that’ section now that they knew I wouldn’t be telling on them.
And the rest of my first day passed without incident.
The sun was descending and it was getting darker by the minute. I locked the doors when the last customer left, closing myself inside, and went behind the counter to where the two pairs of pants lay crumpled in a heap where I’d kicked them before.
I crouched down and bit my tongue while I searched the pockets for what I sought.
My prize?
A pair of wallets. Wallets stuffed with cash. I pocketed that immediately, shoving it into my purse. “Lucky me.” I thought, “I’ll buy myself a few things here before I go.”
A few dozen bento boxes, sushi platters, and some ready to eat meals and lots of sodas.
I made a list in my head, then pulled out the I.D. cards of the two twits, just like I expected, there were addresses in place, I wonder how they explained themselves to their colleagues later. ‘That must have been hilarious.’ I thought and let out a long, loud laugh as I tried to picture their confused answers.
I stowed their wallets in my purse too, put their pants under one arm, and quickly spent their money on what I’d need for my fridge and the like for the better part of the next week.
I had bags loaded down with stuff, and then with a flash, I was gone and standing in front of my door. From there, I vanished again and reappeared just inside.
I dropped my stuff on the mess of a coffee table, picked up my phone, and began to check the locations on these identification cards. I whistled. ‘Downtown? Wow, pricey.’ I thought, and unfortunately, it was also very busy.
“Great. So it’s going to be a chore.” I muttered and looked longingly at the television. I was going to marathon watch a show about a wolf goddess falling in love with a mortal human as they traveled together.
But no… I have to spend at least an hour or two on these twits. “Getting between me and my NEET time… unforgivable.” I growled and called for a car to come pick me up.
‘Oh well… maybe I can find some way to make this at least a little bit fun.’ I thought, and tried to stay positive about it as I walked back out of my apartment again.
submitted by endersgame69 to TheWorldMaker [link] [comments]
I had to admit, Suki knew how to arrange her store, I never thought about it before, but the aisles with ‘that’ material was facing ‘away’ from the register and had another pair of parallel aisles on either side of it, and two running perpendicular thus affording the patron some small degree of ‘privacy’ by letting them feel like they’re boxed in.
Those who visited that aisle as the day went on seemed to buy ‘those’ magazines roughly eight times out of ten, an exceptional ratio. I knew it was exceptional because tragically I have sometimes been forced to run errands for myself. When that does happen, I’ve seen what people do in the stores, I’ve seen those naughty magazines here and there, and I’ve seen young people walk by, eyeing those anxiously, desperately even.
But seldom did they buy even though they wanted to, they didn’t have the courage to look, so they couldn’t take the next step. It’s funny how that works, it really is.
Suki got them to look at it, and therefore usually got them to buy.
My estimation of my friend went up another notch. I smiled when I thought about her, she was always offering me work. Always a kind word. Always encouraging me. ‘You’re a smart girl, you could do anything you want with your life. You don’t have to just lie around and wait for life to happen, come work at my store, that way you can take care of yourself better.’
Of course there were rumors that I was rich, I was after all, a foreigner living in this country with no job, there’s no way I was getting public assistance. It was hard not to like Suki’s motherly attitude toward me, who she saw as a wayward young woman frittering away her days.
But I had no idea Suki was so savvy about her business, right down to where she put the naughty things that Jin probably snuck looks at whenever he could, like most boys his age.
The ding of a new customer caught my ear and I looked over to see a slew of students stroll in, then darted my eyes to the clock. ‘Really? That long?’ I asked myself, somehow the day had just slipped past without my noticing.
Maybe because there was always something to do, check the shelves, wipe up a spill, process a transaction… The time had slipped past with hardly a blip, and now it was later in the afternoon and school was out. I looked past the gaggle of young boys and girls to the clear day outside. Jin wouldn’t be with them, he’d be spending at least a few hours in cram school. I normally wouldn’t see him, if at all, for a few more hours.
You’d think he’d get more help with his math and other subjects there, but? For some reason he liked to ask me.
I waved to the students coming in and listened while they chattered away about whatever school drama had them occupied today. “Welcome to Toriyama’s.” I said, and then my brow furrowed not one minute later when Jin Toriyama walked in with the look of a stunned bunny on his face.
“Wha- why?” He asked, and then his eyes caught me behind the counter.
“Kayobi?!” He exclaimed and strode swiftly over the floor to stand across from me.
I snorted. “Yeah. That’s my name. Can I help you find something?” I couldn’t resist the urge. I wanted to mess with him a little.
“Wh-What are you doing here?” He stumbled over his words as he rushed them out.
“Would you believe I’m counting how many dirty magazines I see young boys buy?” I asked with a smirk, and as he turned red in the face I added, “So, what’s your number? Or do you just sneak peaks at them?”
“Ah, wha- I don’t… you can’t… this isn’t-” He stammered and stuttered and shook as he was flustered, and I did all that I could to restrain myself from laughter.
“Some of those were words. But you need to put them together right, come on, you can do it, you’re a big boy!” I clapped my hands to urge him on.
“I… why are you here?!” He demanded, his voice going up a bit in pitch as his flusteredness overtook him.
“Because here is where I take the money for the stuff people want to buy, dummy.” I said with a smirk, “Surely you’ve worked here long enough to know that.”
“That’s not what I mean, you…” He stopped, he searched for something to call me, “you!” He finally finished.
“Brilliant retort. This is why you shouldn’t be quitting cram school.” I said with a straight face.
“But… but how did you get the key?” He asked and put his hand into the pocket of his dark pants like he was checking to see if his copy was still there.
“I went by to see your mom, she gave it to me, I offered to handle the place until she gets out. She gave me her copy.” I answered, “What, did you think I broke in here?” I smirked a little, losing my deadpan expression and I struck a prowler pose, hunched over with fingers turned down and pantomimed some creeping steps. “Yes, you caught me, my secret identity is Kayobi the catburglar, and I’m so good at breaking and entering that I don’t even need a toolkit. I just teleport.”
“But…” He paused, looked over his shoulder to see that the other students who went in before him were busy elsewhere in the store, then leaned toward me and said, “How is she paying you.”
“Wait… we’re supposed to get paid? Is that why people work?” I asked and covered my open mouth with one hand, “I am shocked. Just… shocked… nay, dumbfounded! I have found the dumb, so stunned am I.”
All he could do was blink at me, so I finally showed the poor boy some mercy, “Relax, I told her I’d do it for free. When she gets out of the hospital she can just do my laundry and make a few meals and we’ll call it square.”
“I-I-I didn’t expect to find my Buddah in hell today…” He stammered, but I just shrugged it off.
“I just don’t want to do chores. So don’t worry about it. Go on and head back to cram school, you’ll be late, but just tell them you’re late because you got bitten by a stray dog or something.” I said, and he blinked at me again as he processed what I said.
“That’s… not how that expression works… not exactly, anyway.” He muttered and I reached up and flipped my orangish hair back with one hand to remind him I’m not from here.
Some of my colleagues asked me once why I don’t disguise myself as somebody who looks like everybody in the neighborhood and whatnot. And the answer is pretty simple. From my colleagues' perspective, if you look like everyone else, you blend in perfectly.
But that’s why I’m better than all of them at my job. It’s not enough to look like people, you have to act like them too, and cultural norms touch everything. On one world, when you’re about to enter a room you’ve never been to, you always tap your foot three times to let the spirits inside know you’re coming. Don’t do that, and people will know you’re a fraud, or at least you’ll stand out in a negative way.
On another world, every first meeting between strangers involves an extensive discussion of ancestry to try to find some common ground and minimize the chance of violence. If I were to go there disguised as one of those, I’d fall flat and get into trouble fast.
But when you’re obviously foreign, people excuse your ignorance as, ‘Well they’re not from here, of course they don’t know better.’
So misusing an expression slightly draws no notice. Thus I blend in by standing out.
Yeah, I’m the best. “Whatever.” I smirked at Jin and gave him a gentle punch on the shoulder, “Hurry up and get back, University waits for no one, and neither do the teachers here, I’ll lock up tonight when I’m done.” I promised.
Jin’s entire body shook, his lower lip quivered, “If you’re not going to buy something, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
His eyes were full of tears, and he shouted, “Thank you!” He then bowed at the waist, turned, and ran out of the store as fast as his feet could carry him.
Various heads turned toward me, he’d come in after the others rather than with them, so it didn’t seem like they realized who he was, and his voice had such an emotional crack to it he must have sounded like a stranger.
I snorted, “It’s nothing, I just promised not to tell his mother about the dirty magazine he bought.”
I recognized some of the kids in the story, and I saw relief flood the faces of the young males who promptly flocked to ‘that’ section now that they knew I wouldn’t be telling on them.
And the rest of my first day passed without incident.
The sun was descending and it was getting darker by the minute. I locked the doors when the last customer left, closing myself inside, and went behind the counter to where the two pairs of pants lay crumpled in a heap where I’d kicked them before.
I crouched down and bit my tongue while I searched the pockets for what I sought.
My prize?
A pair of wallets. Wallets stuffed with cash. I pocketed that immediately, shoving it into my purse. “Lucky me.” I thought, “I’ll buy myself a few things here before I go.”
A few dozen bento boxes, sushi platters, and some ready to eat meals and lots of sodas.
I made a list in my head, then pulled out the I.D. cards of the two twits, just like I expected, there were addresses in place, I wonder how they explained themselves to their colleagues later. ‘That must have been hilarious.’ I thought and let out a long, loud laugh as I tried to picture their confused answers.
I stowed their wallets in my purse too, put their pants under one arm, and quickly spent their money on what I’d need for my fridge and the like for the better part of the next week.
I had bags loaded down with stuff, and then with a flash, I was gone and standing in front of my door. From there, I vanished again and reappeared just inside.
I dropped my stuff on the mess of a coffee table, picked up my phone, and began to check the locations on these identification cards. I whistled. ‘Downtown? Wow, pricey.’ I thought, and unfortunately, it was also very busy.
“Great. So it’s going to be a chore.” I muttered and looked longingly at the television. I was going to marathon watch a show about a wolf goddess falling in love with a mortal human as they traveled together.
But no… I have to spend at least an hour or two on these twits. “Getting between me and my NEET time… unforgivable.” I growled and called for a car to come pick me up.
‘Oh well… maybe I can find some way to make this at least a little bit fun.’ I thought, and tried to stay positive about it as I walked back out of my apartment again.
2023.06.02 16:59 Jus17173 Communist wolves - Chapter 35 - This is Not a Space Opera
First Previous Next Ko-fi
"Hey Juice. Did you mean what you said about Tweek's wife being with another man at the moment?" Honey asked while they flew past trees. Juice was a little surprised at Honey Badger's ability to keep up with his pace. His large feet touched at the forest floor gently, propelling him forward in an endless torrent of speed and agility, and beside him Honey Badger kept pace.
"She cheated on him, he disappeared, that won't make her go 'My husband is gone, now is the right time to be faithful'." He shook his head from side to side, his arms pumping with every kick forward. "No, she's with the other man."
Honey suddenly stopped forcing Juice to halt his run, "What is it?" Juice whispered. Then he heard it, through the trees, the unmistakable sound of footfalls crunching leaves. A man appeared trailed by six wolves, the duo darted to either side of a the trees, using the bark as cover.
"The wolves have a scent, looks like unknowns at the south side of the wilderness." The man said to a receiver that dangled across his ear to come to rest at his cheek, mouthpiece dangling just above the lips. The wolves sniffed at the forest floor, inching ever closer. Honey darted from behind the tree, he jumped and twisted himself mid air, he fired two shots, one hit the man right at his forehead and the other took him down at the neck. Blood spluttered on the forest floor. The wolves tensed, hackles rising but Juice rushed them. The wolf at the front, the alpha, a large male with a coat of white fur charged Juice, it came in low thinking Juice would follow suit but Juice went high, jumping over the wolf and as he jumped his legs spun and the sword came down in a twirling arch to cut the wolf's head off then its midriff and a part of its hide. Juice landed behind the wolf and behind him the wolf fell to pieces. Seeing this the other wolves let out howls of fright and scattered to either end of the forest leaving Honey Badger and Juice standing alone amidst the trees.
Honey walked over to the wolf and raised its decapitated head. "Metal casing between the ears." He said.
Juice leaned down over the body of the man and stood up with a metallic object in hand. "This one has been set to scouting, I think it is used to control the alpha whom the pack follows."
"It's quite clever, control the leader of the pack to control the pack." Honey Badger said. "It's like communism."
Juice smiled. "We're fighting communist wolves."
They marched on, steady feet tapping the forest floor in swift movements. They ran for what could pass as half an hour until they came to a clearing where two men stood amidst a dozen wolves, eyes peering in either direction. Honey and Juice lay flat on the ground, their weapons held at the ready.
"Do you spot the alphas?" Honey asked.
Juice squinted. "There are two, the one to the North East, brown fur, metal casing on its head. To its right, two clicks, is the second alpha."
Honey stood up, all heads turned to him including those of the wolves. The two men started approaching and tapping at the metal casings at their sides. Honey raised his arm, gun in hand. He fired four shots that hit their targets, two alpha wolves lay headless on the forest floor and those that controlled them lay with ghastly wounds to the necks, bleeding out on the ground. The other wolves scattered. Honey and Juice approached the two figures on the ground.
"Say, have you ever thought about marriage?" Juice asked as he raised his sword and thrust it into the midriff of one man whose mouth gurgled with blood.
Honey aimed his pistol at the second man and fired at point blank rage, the man's head exploded in a flood of gore. "Marriage is a delicate topic, you have to consider the aspect of love, is it necessary for marriage to occur? If not then what's the point."
A man walked into the clearing, trailed by wolves. Honey pointed at him and pulled the trigger, the plasma ray shot forward at blinding speed, tearing through the air to hit the man in the eye, the back of his skull exploded in a mist of blood. The wolves charged, six of them, at the forefront was the alpha. Juice ran to meet them, the wolves split into two groups, flanking Juice's approach. Juice moved head on, aiming for the wolf with a metal casing upon its head. The black furred wolf pounced but Juice slid beneath it and as he slid he swiped at its legs with the light sword, cutting off its limbs. The other wolves approached but half hearted after seeing their leader's whimpering limbless form. Juice drove his sword through one wolf's chest, ejected it and sliced through another's snout. He then dove for the limbless wolf and impaled it through the head, breaking its metal casing. The other wolves scattered.
Honey walked to meet up with Juice and together they matched strides, heading for the Palace in the distance. "If marriage isn't for you then why did you propose it to Asumpta of the Solstice army?" Juice asked.
Honey rested his plasma pistols on his shoulders as he walked. "She had a metal arm."
"And?" Juice asked.
"Do you know what it's like to receive a hand job from a metallic hand?" Honey asked in return. Juice smiled. "I don't but one thing's for sure, as long as that hand has been oiled down well there's no tiring to the jerking motion. That means unlimited hand jobs, fast paced without tiring."
Juice nodded. "You are a wise man Honey Badger, you can read between the lines."
"And Thergo's body is metallic. She's basically capable of tirelessly satisfying me day in and day out."
"You think about the Princesses too?"
"I do."
Three men appeared before them, swords drawn at the ready. No wolves in sight. Juice rushed forward and the three ran to meet him. The first man raised his blade but Juice ducked low and cut inside the man's elbow, tearing tendons and ensuring the limb hang useless. The other two tried to flank him but Juice dove hard to the left, brandishing his blade he struck, thrusting just beneath the man's chin. The blade stuck between jaw bones and Juice let go of it after a failed yank. He turned to meet the man on the right but a plasma ray passed just a hand's breadth from his ear and took the man out through the eye. Juice turned to see Honey Badger shoot the man with the useless limb thrice through the chest. Honey walked on until he stood next to Juice who leaned down and picked up a light sword. They nodded at each other and continued their march towards the palace.
"I thought it was just Thergo's dress that was metallic." Juice said as they passed overhang trees, the canopy sheltering them from the sun's rays.
"Parts of her body are metal or some alloy resembling metal. The way she shapes her dress into weapons is probably because of some magnetic overlay that works with her flesh." Honey said and sighed. "Man I miss her flesh, it's like having sex with a microwave."
"Like fucking the Droid?" Juice said and they both laughed then quickly cut their laughs short as a man appeared before them, between the trees, wielding a plasma riffle with four wolves with metal casings flanking him on all sides.
The man took aim and fired but his plasma shot met with the plasma shot from Honey's pistol. The man gawked at Honey Badger, he raised his riffle and fired once more but Honey's plasma ray met with his shot once more in an eruption of sparks.
"Well I'll be damn—" The man's sentence was cut short as plasma shot from Honey's pistol took him out at the head, chewing a chunk off his skull. The wolves ran forward to meet them and Juice darted to answer their charge. The first two wolves pounced, aiming for his neck but Juice spun with the blade in hand, eviscerating them mid air. The wolves collapsed with whimpering death cries. Juice's feet still running he launched himself at the third wolf, darting to the side so its leap may meet plain air, swiping with his blade to cut through the wolf's snout in a deliberate line that ran from its mouth, through the neck to end at its chest. The fourth wolf tried to charge at his legs but a downward swipe of his blade severed its spine and ended its life.
Honey walked forward and met Juice. They nodded at each other and continued their journey, quickening their pace to a jog they etched on towards the now near palace.
"I see Sirenala within my mind from time to time, what Tweek said about Pepsharh is somewhat similar to what I experience." Juice said, his breath even despite the exertion thus far.
"It's like whatever we shared with them was special."
Juice stopped his ran and Honey Badger brandished his plasma pistols in an arch before him only to meet no foe.
"Special?" Juice asked.
Honey lowered his guns. "That's the word for it." He smiled. "What we shared with the princesses was unique, distinguished with a quality."
"Could it be love?" Juice asked, looking down on Honey Badger.
"Do you know Sirenala's birthday?" Honey asked.
"No"
"Then it's not love."
They continued on their forward march, exiting the cover of trees to emerge at the mouth of a bridge. On this bridge stood seven men with packs of wolves surrounding them. The foremost standing man had something in his hand which he raised high to the eyes of Honey Badger and Juice. In his hand was a tie, it's color yellow with red polka dots adorning its surface.
"We have your man." He shouted at them.
Honey's shoulders slumped. "Just our luck."
Juice's brows furrowed. "They have Tweek."
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"Hey Juice. Did you mean what you said about Tweek's wife being with another man at the moment?" Honey asked while they flew past trees. Juice was a little surprised at Honey Badger's ability to keep up with his pace. His large feet touched at the forest floor gently, propelling him forward in an endless torrent of speed and agility, and beside him Honey Badger kept pace.
"She cheated on him, he disappeared, that won't make her go 'My husband is gone, now is the right time to be faithful'." He shook his head from side to side, his arms pumping with every kick forward. "No, she's with the other man."
Honey suddenly stopped forcing Juice to halt his run, "What is it?" Juice whispered. Then he heard it, through the trees, the unmistakable sound of footfalls crunching leaves. A man appeared trailed by six wolves, the duo darted to either side of a the trees, using the bark as cover.
"The wolves have a scent, looks like unknowns at the south side of the wilderness." The man said to a receiver that dangled across his ear to come to rest at his cheek, mouthpiece dangling just above the lips. The wolves sniffed at the forest floor, inching ever closer. Honey darted from behind the tree, he jumped and twisted himself mid air, he fired two shots, one hit the man right at his forehead and the other took him down at the neck. Blood spluttered on the forest floor. The wolves tensed, hackles rising but Juice rushed them. The wolf at the front, the alpha, a large male with a coat of white fur charged Juice, it came in low thinking Juice would follow suit but Juice went high, jumping over the wolf and as he jumped his legs spun and the sword came down in a twirling arch to cut the wolf's head off then its midriff and a part of its hide. Juice landed behind the wolf and behind him the wolf fell to pieces. Seeing this the other wolves let out howls of fright and scattered to either end of the forest leaving Honey Badger and Juice standing alone amidst the trees.
Honey walked over to the wolf and raised its decapitated head. "Metal casing between the ears." He said.
Juice leaned down over the body of the man and stood up with a metallic object in hand. "This one has been set to scouting, I think it is used to control the alpha whom the pack follows."
"It's quite clever, control the leader of the pack to control the pack." Honey Badger said. "It's like communism."
Juice smiled. "We're fighting communist wolves."
They marched on, steady feet tapping the forest floor in swift movements. They ran for what could pass as half an hour until they came to a clearing where two men stood amidst a dozen wolves, eyes peering in either direction. Honey and Juice lay flat on the ground, their weapons held at the ready.
"Do you spot the alphas?" Honey asked.
Juice squinted. "There are two, the one to the North East, brown fur, metal casing on its head. To its right, two clicks, is the second alpha."
Honey stood up, all heads turned to him including those of the wolves. The two men started approaching and tapping at the metal casings at their sides. Honey raised his arm, gun in hand. He fired four shots that hit their targets, two alpha wolves lay headless on the forest floor and those that controlled them lay with ghastly wounds to the necks, bleeding out on the ground. The other wolves scattered. Honey and Juice approached the two figures on the ground.
"Say, have you ever thought about marriage?" Juice asked as he raised his sword and thrust it into the midriff of one man whose mouth gurgled with blood.
Honey aimed his pistol at the second man and fired at point blank rage, the man's head exploded in a flood of gore. "Marriage is a delicate topic, you have to consider the aspect of love, is it necessary for marriage to occur? If not then what's the point."
A man walked into the clearing, trailed by wolves. Honey pointed at him and pulled the trigger, the plasma ray shot forward at blinding speed, tearing through the air to hit the man in the eye, the back of his skull exploded in a mist of blood. The wolves charged, six of them, at the forefront was the alpha. Juice ran to meet them, the wolves split into two groups, flanking Juice's approach. Juice moved head on, aiming for the wolf with a metal casing upon its head. The black furred wolf pounced but Juice slid beneath it and as he slid he swiped at its legs with the light sword, cutting off its limbs. The other wolves approached but half hearted after seeing their leader's whimpering limbless form. Juice drove his sword through one wolf's chest, ejected it and sliced through another's snout. He then dove for the limbless wolf and impaled it through the head, breaking its metal casing. The other wolves scattered.
Honey walked to meet up with Juice and together they matched strides, heading for the Palace in the distance. "If marriage isn't for you then why did you propose it to Asumpta of the Solstice army?" Juice asked.
Honey rested his plasma pistols on his shoulders as he walked. "She had a metal arm."
"And?" Juice asked.
"Do you know what it's like to receive a hand job from a metallic hand?" Honey asked in return. Juice smiled. "I don't but one thing's for sure, as long as that hand has been oiled down well there's no tiring to the jerking motion. That means unlimited hand jobs, fast paced without tiring."
Juice nodded. "You are a wise man Honey Badger, you can read between the lines."
"And Thergo's body is metallic. She's basically capable of tirelessly satisfying me day in and day out."
"You think about the Princesses too?"
"I do."
Three men appeared before them, swords drawn at the ready. No wolves in sight. Juice rushed forward and the three ran to meet him. The first man raised his blade but Juice ducked low and cut inside the man's elbow, tearing tendons and ensuring the limb hang useless. The other two tried to flank him but Juice dove hard to the left, brandishing his blade he struck, thrusting just beneath the man's chin. The blade stuck between jaw bones and Juice let go of it after a failed yank. He turned to meet the man on the right but a plasma ray passed just a hand's breadth from his ear and took the man out through the eye. Juice turned to see Honey Badger shoot the man with the useless limb thrice through the chest. Honey walked on until he stood next to Juice who leaned down and picked up a light sword. They nodded at each other and continued their march towards the palace.
"I thought it was just Thergo's dress that was metallic." Juice said as they passed overhang trees, the canopy sheltering them from the sun's rays.
"Parts of her body are metal or some alloy resembling metal. The way she shapes her dress into weapons is probably because of some magnetic overlay that works with her flesh." Honey said and sighed. "Man I miss her flesh, it's like having sex with a microwave."
"Like fucking the Droid?" Juice said and they both laughed then quickly cut their laughs short as a man appeared before them, between the trees, wielding a plasma riffle with four wolves with metal casings flanking him on all sides.
The man took aim and fired but his plasma shot met with the plasma shot from Honey's pistol. The man gawked at Honey Badger, he raised his riffle and fired once more but Honey's plasma ray met with his shot once more in an eruption of sparks.
"Well I'll be damn—" The man's sentence was cut short as plasma shot from Honey's pistol took him out at the head, chewing a chunk off his skull. The wolves ran forward to meet them and Juice darted to answer their charge. The first two wolves pounced, aiming for his neck but Juice spun with the blade in hand, eviscerating them mid air. The wolves collapsed with whimpering death cries. Juice's feet still running he launched himself at the third wolf, darting to the side so its leap may meet plain air, swiping with his blade to cut through the wolf's snout in a deliberate line that ran from its mouth, through the neck to end at its chest. The fourth wolf tried to charge at his legs but a downward swipe of his blade severed its spine and ended its life.
Honey walked forward and met Juice. They nodded at each other and continued their journey, quickening their pace to a jog they etched on towards the now near palace.
"I see Sirenala within my mind from time to time, what Tweek said about Pepsharh is somewhat similar to what I experience." Juice said, his breath even despite the exertion thus far.
"It's like whatever we shared with them was special."
Juice stopped his ran and Honey Badger brandished his plasma pistols in an arch before him only to meet no foe.
"Special?" Juice asked.
Honey lowered his guns. "That's the word for it." He smiled. "What we shared with the princesses was unique, distinguished with a quality."
"Could it be love?" Juice asked, looking down on Honey Badger.
"Do you know Sirenala's birthday?" Honey asked.
"No"
"Then it's not love."
They continued on their forward march, exiting the cover of trees to emerge at the mouth of a bridge. On this bridge stood seven men with packs of wolves surrounding them. The foremost standing man had something in his hand which he raised high to the eyes of Honey Badger and Juice. In his hand was a tie, it's color yellow with red polka dots adorning its surface.
"We have your man." He shouted at them.
Honey's shoulders slumped. "Just our luck."
Juice's brows furrowed. "They have Tweek."
2023.06.02 16:57 endersgame69 Adopted By Humans VII C12
Humans have an expression. No. That’s wrong.
Humans have many expressions relating to what I’m going to say next.
‘Think of it as being bitten by a stray dog’ refers to an unfortunate and unforeseeable event.
‘When it rains it pours.’ Refers to how bad things tend to come in groups.
And my personal ‘sort of’ favorite, ‘When something can go wrong, it invariably will, and at the worst possible moment.’ Commonly referred to as ‘Murphy’s Law’, at first glance it would appear to contradict what my people refer to as the law of Independent Causality, which states that positive and negative events can take place without respect to circumstance.
But it keeps to the Law of Dependent Causality, which states that structural or systemic flaws are often exposed by temporally proximate but seemingly independent events. I know, it’s complicated. A simple way to understand it is this…
Suppose you have a bridge, and the bridge collapses during a storm. Now you have no bridge. Well, why did the bridge collapse? Simply put, it fell apart because of ‘weather’ which is an independent event from the bridge’s collapse.
However, the bridge was weak because the maintenance wasn’t performed properly, and ithat wasn’t performed properly because there was corruption involved, paying somebody for work that they were either not performing at all or were underperforming to increase their profits.
Because you have a corruption problem, the bridge collapse is only one sign of a problem that is far more widespread. If you start checking ‘other’ construction projects, you’ll find similar results. Thus when you start spotting other issues, you are seeing ‘dependent causation’ which is to say…
To borrow another human idiom, you found the bad apple that’s spoiling the bunch.
You might wonder why I’m saying all this, particularly since it wasn’t in the first edition of this volume.
I added this so there would be some context to some other external events that were taking place ion the far reaches of the galaxy. Events… nobody really recognized yet as being related, largely because at this point in time, we just didn’t talk to each other very much.
This is something difficult for later generations to really comprehend, now that it’s simply a given that the various species communicate regularly and that trade takes place on more than just isolated space stations that route goods to planetary or moon colonies.
But at this point in time, human and dlamisan species were unique in that we spoke as much as we did. Our governmental leaders, civil and military, genuinely took a liking to one another and would spend abundant time together.
But mowentari, avinris, leonid, maxiki, and the countless other species, did not typically remain in long term persistent contact with each other, and what humans refer to as ‘nomanslands’ were exceptionally common, with border friction great and only certain paths of travel considered ‘acceptable’ and therefore protected.
It made piracy common and the zenti, not to mention other piratical groups, could go deep into the galaxy by following the many branches of the Sindari Road or by other, little used paths to establish themselves and raid peoples even far from their own borders.
And since nobody talked to one another and border tensions were always tight, not only were cleanups of pirate activity rare, but even knowing that losses were taking place was little reported, at home or abroad.
A mining station being destroyed in avinris territory would not be spoken of to the mowentari. The mowentari would not tell the leonids, and nobody would tell Dlamias if there was a pattern of destruction from other bases, leading toward dlamisan territory.
If it seems like madness… it is. Or was. Depending on when you read this.
But it was so normal that we all just accepted it.
And when I say ‘we’, I mean this necessarily includes ‘me’. At least until I began the phase of my experimentation that involved the multispecies combat tournaments.
The gravity of that error on all our parts was made evident when I reached out to Livingston and informed him of what I’d learned.
He was seated behind his desk and staring down his snout at me. “I assume I don’t want to know where you got that information, and I can probably guess, regardless.”
“You probably can, sir.” I said, choosing to be formal while I sat in my room in the basement of the Walker house. It was as good as confirmation, and he scratched beneath his jaw.
“A few years ago, I would have had you hauled off and deported over this.” He said as his ears drooped. “But… everything is different now. And I don’t just mean the fact that you’re no longer a mere impoverished student.”
Having my status elevated was no small thing, it wasn’t something my people did lightly, and this is especially true without ‘formal’ status. In name, I was no different, but since my life had ‘evolved’ a few new roles, deporting me would have been a disruption, and I no longer had anything to fear about that.
“Thank you, sir.” My tongue lolled out of my mouth as I gave him a polite nod to acknowledge his quiet praise for my usefulness.
“Don’t thank me yet.” He answered, and then said, “It’s because of your…usefulness as a backchannel. , I want you to go back to your fighters, the leonid, the mowentari, the avinris, and speak to your fellow students too. I want you to feel out the possibility of a general ‘Rapax Conference’, something covert. Like the earlier idea of military operations.”
“They’ll ask to what purpose.” I prompted, the fine fur on his body was standing on end, and the tension rose another notch as he leaned toward the viewscreen.
“This. Does not. Reach. Anyone. Else. Am I understood, Bailey Walker. The humans know. I know. Your mate knows. I do not know if anyone of the others haves been experiencing the same thing, but we need to find out.” Livingston stared at me with a long, silent look that said I had better be taking him seriously.
For a moment I wasn’t sure who he meant… then it hit me. ‘Bonny Red knows…whatever it is? What did she find?!’ My academic curiosity was piqued.
“I understand. I won’t even speak to Fauve.” I promised.
“She’ll know soon enough anyway.” He grumbled, and then after what felt like an eternity he said…
“Colonies are disappearing. So are colony ships, and so are entire space stations. Not just ours. But some of the small human settlements that were meant to lay the foundations for future colonies. If it is happening to both us and humans. M, my colleague and I are concerned if it might not be more widespread. And what’s more, the same thing is happening among the Praeda class species. Bonny Red’s excursion found abandoned, damaged, destroyed outposts, colonies, floating hulks… something is amiss, and it appears this is the cause for the Praeda arming for war.”
“Did we do it?” I asked point blank. It was the sort of thing Dlamias would do if it ensured a long term victory, our highly militarized society would not play games of chance with our future if we could avoid it.
“No. I can confirm that we had nothing to do with it. For one thing, Gaozu is on Earth. He has been for months at least, and the last time he left, it wasn’t for long. If we were behind it, he would be in charge.” Livingston’s protest rang true to me.
He was our best, it would be inconceivable for him to be offworld, let alone attending my sporting events every week while a proxy or covert war was being waged.
“Alright. I understand. I’ll reach out immediately and have my fighters contact their embassies and suggest that there are some explosive matters to discuss and the problem won’t vanish if it is ignored. They’ll take the hint.” I could promise that much.
Like I said.
Whatever can go wrong, will go wrong, and at the worst possible time. And it seems the human expression did not go far enough, when it rains, it pours, and then it floods.
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Humans have many expressions relating to what I’m going to say next.
‘Think of it as being bitten by a stray dog’ refers to an unfortunate and unforeseeable event.
‘When it rains it pours.’ Refers to how bad things tend to come in groups.
And my personal ‘sort of’ favorite, ‘When something can go wrong, it invariably will, and at the worst possible moment.’ Commonly referred to as ‘Murphy’s Law’, at first glance it would appear to contradict what my people refer to as the law of Independent Causality, which states that positive and negative events can take place without respect to circumstance.
But it keeps to the Law of Dependent Causality, which states that structural or systemic flaws are often exposed by temporally proximate but seemingly independent events. I know, it’s complicated. A simple way to understand it is this…
Suppose you have a bridge, and the bridge collapses during a storm. Now you have no bridge. Well, why did the bridge collapse? Simply put, it fell apart because of ‘weather’ which is an independent event from the bridge’s collapse.
However, the bridge was weak because the maintenance wasn’t performed properly, and ithat wasn’t performed properly because there was corruption involved, paying somebody for work that they were either not performing at all or were underperforming to increase their profits.
Because you have a corruption problem, the bridge collapse is only one sign of a problem that is far more widespread. If you start checking ‘other’ construction projects, you’ll find similar results. Thus when you start spotting other issues, you are seeing ‘dependent causation’ which is to say…
To borrow another human idiom, you found the bad apple that’s spoiling the bunch.
You might wonder why I’m saying all this, particularly since it wasn’t in the first edition of this volume.
I added this so there would be some context to some other external events that were taking place ion the far reaches of the galaxy. Events… nobody really recognized yet as being related, largely because at this point in time, we just didn’t talk to each other very much.
This is something difficult for later generations to really comprehend, now that it’s simply a given that the various species communicate regularly and that trade takes place on more than just isolated space stations that route goods to planetary or moon colonies.
But at this point in time, human and dlamisan species were unique in that we spoke as much as we did. Our governmental leaders, civil and military, genuinely took a liking to one another and would spend abundant time together.
But mowentari, avinris, leonid, maxiki, and the countless other species, did not typically remain in long term persistent contact with each other, and what humans refer to as ‘nomanslands’ were exceptionally common, with border friction great and only certain paths of travel considered ‘acceptable’ and therefore protected.
It made piracy common and the zenti, not to mention other piratical groups, could go deep into the galaxy by following the many branches of the Sindari Road or by other, little used paths to establish themselves and raid peoples even far from their own borders.
And since nobody talked to one another and border tensions were always tight, not only were cleanups of pirate activity rare, but even knowing that losses were taking place was little reported, at home or abroad.
A mining station being destroyed in avinris territory would not be spoken of to the mowentari. The mowentari would not tell the leonids, and nobody would tell Dlamias if there was a pattern of destruction from other bases, leading toward dlamisan territory.
If it seems like madness… it is. Or was. Depending on when you read this.
But it was so normal that we all just accepted it.
And when I say ‘we’, I mean this necessarily includes ‘me’. At least until I began the phase of my experimentation that involved the multispecies combat tournaments.
The gravity of that error on all our parts was made evident when I reached out to Livingston and informed him of what I’d learned.
He was seated behind his desk and staring down his snout at me. “I assume I don’t want to know where you got that information, and I can probably guess, regardless.”
“You probably can, sir.” I said, choosing to be formal while I sat in my room in the basement of the Walker house. It was as good as confirmation, and he scratched beneath his jaw.
“A few years ago, I would have had you hauled off and deported over this.” He said as his ears drooped. “But… everything is different now. And I don’t just mean the fact that you’re no longer a mere impoverished student.”
Having my status elevated was no small thing, it wasn’t something my people did lightly, and this is especially true without ‘formal’ status. In name, I was no different, but since my life had ‘evolved’ a few new roles, deporting me would have been a disruption, and I no longer had anything to fear about that.
“Thank you, sir.” My tongue lolled out of my mouth as I gave him a polite nod to acknowledge his quiet praise for my usefulness.
“Don’t thank me yet.” He answered, and then said, “It’s because of your…usefulness as a backchannel. , I want you to go back to your fighters, the leonid, the mowentari, the avinris, and speak to your fellow students too. I want you to feel out the possibility of a general ‘Rapax Conference’, something covert. Like the earlier idea of military operations.”
“They’ll ask to what purpose.” I prompted, the fine fur on his body was standing on end, and the tension rose another notch as he leaned toward the viewscreen.
“This. Does not. Reach. Anyone. Else. Am I understood, Bailey Walker. The humans know. I know. Your mate knows. I do not know if anyone of the others haves been experiencing the same thing, but we need to find out.” Livingston stared at me with a long, silent look that said I had better be taking him seriously.
For a moment I wasn’t sure who he meant… then it hit me. ‘Bonny Red knows…whatever it is? What did she find?!’ My academic curiosity was piqued.
“I understand. I won’t even speak to Fauve.” I promised.
“She’ll know soon enough anyway.” He grumbled, and then after what felt like an eternity he said…
“Colonies are disappearing. So are colony ships, and so are entire space stations. Not just ours. But some of the small human settlements that were meant to lay the foundations for future colonies. If it is happening to both us and humans. M, my colleague and I are concerned if it might not be more widespread. And what’s more, the same thing is happening among the Praeda class species. Bonny Red’s excursion found abandoned, damaged, destroyed outposts, colonies, floating hulks… something is amiss, and it appears this is the cause for the Praeda arming for war.”
“Did we do it?” I asked point blank. It was the sort of thing Dlamias would do if it ensured a long term victory, our highly militarized society would not play games of chance with our future if we could avoid it.
“No. I can confirm that we had nothing to do with it. For one thing, Gaozu is on Earth. He has been for months at least, and the last time he left, it wasn’t for long. If we were behind it, he would be in charge.” Livingston’s protest rang true to me.
He was our best, it would be inconceivable for him to be offworld, let alone attending my sporting events every week while a proxy or covert war was being waged.
“Alright. I understand. I’ll reach out immediately and have my fighters contact their embassies and suggest that there are some explosive matters to discuss and the problem won’t vanish if it is ignored. They’ll take the hint.” I could promise that much.
Like I said.
Whatever can go wrong, will go wrong, and at the worst possible time. And it seems the human expression did not go far enough, when it rains, it pours, and then it floods.
2023.06.02 16:44 zorbus_overdose Zorbus - June 2023 update
The traditional fantasy-themed roguelike Zorbus has been updated to release 59.
If you aren't already familiar with the game, you can find more info from the homepage and from the Steam page. See the online tutorial and a 75 page PDF manual.
The game is currently 25% off on Steam. Here's a recent Steam review.
Some free Steam keys, remove the R3*** part:
(edit: all taken)
8C63C-R3M0V-85GMP-D7PEQ
R3M0V-BZ9GF-DCPW0-XDBM4
WIJWC-6HFQ5-R3M0V-7RJMM
GHZTA-R3M0V-QPNHE-QIIFE
R3M0V-L53X7-NE0TR-IGHQV
Changes:
submitted by zorbus_overdose to roguelikes [link] [comments]
If you aren't already familiar with the game, you can find more info from the homepage and from the Steam page. See the online tutorial and a 75 page PDF manual.
The game is currently 25% off on Steam. Here's a recent Steam review.
Some free Steam keys, remove the R3*** part:
(edit: all taken)
Changes:
- Some new options during character creation:
- Spirited Learner is a talent that can be chosen only on the 1st experience level and only during ability adjustment. It costs 1 talent point.
- You might not be the smartest but you sure are spirited. You learn new things by hard work and sheer determination. With this talent, Spirit-ability is used for skill and talent point progression instead of Mind. Note that even with this talent, Magic- and Search -skills still retain Mind as their key ability, and all spell talents have a Mind requirement. Mind of at least 6 is needed to be able to read.
- When using the point buy -system for ability scores, you can trade 5 points for 1 talent.
- Spirited Learner is a talent that can be chosen only on the 1st experience level and only during ability adjustment. It costs 1 talent point.
- New talent: Bloodlust.
- When you kill a creature with a melee or a ranged attack, your Stamina gets restored by 10% of your max Stamina, and you gain a temporary 1d4 point boost to your Body-ability for 11-20 rounds. The ability effect does not stack with other temporary ability effects. Half-orcs get this for free.
- New talent: Holy Warrior.
- Spiritual upbringing enables you to channel holiness to attacks against evil-aligned creatures. 1 point of holy-damage is added to melee and ranged attacks. The damage is increased to 1d2 once you reach experience level 12 and your adjusted Spirit-ability is at least 16. Only evil-aligned creatures are affected. Holy damage is doubled against most undead creatures. Stacks with holy damage from weapons and from temporary effects.
- New talent: One with Darkness.
- You have an extraordinary knack to be fully functional in complete darkness. You gain darkvision of 8 tiles, +3 to Stealth-checks when trying to remain unseen in darkness, +5 to perception checks to detect creatures in darkness, +5 to attack rolls against creatures that don't see you (stacks with the normal +10 bonus, also a bonus to score critical hits). When you score a critical hit, you do 25% extra damage (stacks with the base 50% extra from critical hits and extras from other sources). Can only be taken on the 1st experience level.
- New talent: Veil of Darkness.
- When activated, you emit a burst of darkness which extinguishes seen lightsources within 15 tile radius. Environment lightsources (torches, braziers, etc.) and lightsources carried by creatures are affected. Creatures whose lightsources are extinguished won't be able to relight them for a small duration (10-15 rounds).
- Melee Elemental Damage / Ranged Elemental Damage talents: These now scale with experience level.
- Stonesense talent: You'll get +1 to Search-checks when trying to detect secret doors, +2 to Search-checks when trying to detect living statues. Recruitable rogue saints (living statues) are stronger when you have this talent.
- Changes to the companion list on the upper right corner:
- Shows max 20 companions.
- Added keys for commanding companions 10-20 individually.
- Some of the commanding keys have changed!
- INS or F11 toggles the list.
- CTRL + INS or CTRL + F11 toggles the viewing of expendable companions (constructs, animated, summoned, charmed).
- CTRL + number to command companions 1-10, CTRL + F1-F10 to command companions 11-20.
- DEL or NUMPAD_0 to command all companions.
- CTRL + DEL or CTRL + NUMPAD_0 to command all expendable companions (constructs, animated, summoned, charmed).
- You can use mouse wheel up / down to hide / show the list.
- Rogue saints are no longer counted as real recruits, they're grouped with golems as "constructs".
- Companion options:
- On the second page of a companion's character sheet are some options to control more of the companion's behavior. Currently just one: you can set an option that a companion won't animate or summon creatures.
- New item: Orb of Nullifying.
- This orb creates a nullifying field that removes a group of resistances from all creatures on the dungeon level for the duration of the effect. The nullifying affects randomly either physical (blunt, pierce, slash) or elemental (fire / cold / lightning / acid) resistances. Only one nullifying field can be active at a time.
- Some changes and clarifications to critical hits:
- A critical hit does 50% more damage. Affects all damage element types (physical, cold, fire, etc.).
- Improved Melee Criticals and Improved Ranged Criticals talents add an extra 25%.
- One with Darkness talent adds an extra 25% if the defender can not see the attacker.
- If the defender is sleeping, critical hits do 100% extra damage, but this does not stack with above modifiers.
- Some changes and clarifications to stealth:
- If the defender can not see the attacker, the attacker gets a +10 attack bonus. One with Darkness talent adds an extra +5.
- If the defender is sleeping, the attack roll for melee attacks is an automatic 20, ranged attacks get a +10 attack bonus.
- After an attack made from a neighboring tile, an unseen attacker is always marked visible to the defender. For attacks made from distant tiles, a Search vs Stealth skill check is made to determine if an unseen attacker is seen. A spotted creature can move to a new position to try to gain stealth again.
- Added some new mouse commands to the inventory screen: changing between companions, switch between equipment / inventory etc. These can be activated by left / right clicking the inventory list title bars. See tooltips for more info.
- Creatures flash in blue when they heal themselves.
- Good and neutral aligned creatures get 99 holy-resistance, making damage output in the log more consistent to other element types. Previously the holy-element was simply zeroed if the defending creature was not evil.
- Fixed an inconsistency in logged damage calculations that occured when a creature died, so that the damage element calculations make sense. Previously you could see something like "...and kill it! (Blunt: 1 = 4 - res 1)". Now you'll see "(Blunt: 1 = 2 - res 1)"
- Fixed a bug where the autosave wasn't deleted when the game was won. (thanks to Lights for mentioning)
- Keybindings have changed. This release should automatically reset them to the defaults, but if it doesn't, do so from the keybindings menu.
- The command "Toggle low health warning" in the WASD-keys -preset now defaults to CTRL+H. Previous CTRL+W was in conflict with "continuous walk to north".
- Added 44 new Steam achievements for a total of 64. (thanks to ZeroAffex and Lights for ideas!)
- Tutorial and PDF manual updated. PDF manual now has descriptions of all talents.
- Small changes to sound effects.
- The leaderboard has been reset. The old leaderboard is here: http://wins.zorbus.net/r58/.
2023.06.02 16:38 Opening-Campaign-532 For anyone struggling with overwhelming feelings:
DETACHING FROM EMOTIONAL PAIN (GROUNDING)
Lisa Najavits, PhD
WHAT IS GROUNDING?
Grounding is a set of simple strategies to detach from emotional pain (for example, drug cravings,
self-harm impulses, anger, sadness). Distraction works by focusing outward on the external world—rather
than inward toward the self. You can also think of it as “distraction”, centering,” “a safe place,” looking
“outward,” or “healthy detachment.”
WHY DO GROUNDING?
When you are overwhelmed with emotional pain, you need a way to detach so that you can gain control
over your feelings and stay safe. As long as you are grounding, you cannot possibly use substances or hurt yourself. Grounding ‘anchors’ you to the present and to reality.
Many people with PTSD and substance abuse struggle with either feeling too much (overwhelming
emotions and memories) or too little (numbing and dissociation). In grounding, you attain balance
between the two—conscious of reality and able to tolerate it.
GUIDELINES
Grounding can be done any time, any place, anywhere and no one has to know.
Use grounding when you are: faced with a trigger, having a flashback, dissociating, having a
substance craving, or when your emotional pain goes above 6 (on a 0-10 scale). Grounding puts
healthy distance between you and these negative feelings.
Keep your eyes open, scan the room, and turn the light on to stay in touch with the present.
Rate your mood before and after to test whether it worked. Before grounding, rate your level of
emotional pain (0-10, where 10 means “extreme pain”). Then re-rate it afterwards. Has it gone down?
No talking about negative feelings or journal writing. You want to distract away from negative
feelings, not get in touch with them.
Stay neutral—no judgments of “good” and “bad’. For example, “The walls are blue; I dislike blue
because it reminds me of depression.” Simply say “The wafts are blue” and move on.
Focus on the present, not the past or future.
Note that grounding is not the same as relaxation training. Grounding is much more active, focuses
on distraction strategies and is intended to help extreme negative feelings. It is believed to be more.
effective for PTSD than relaxation training.
WAYS TO GROUND
Mental Grounding
♣ Describe your environment in detail using all your senses. For example, “The walls are white; there are
five pink chairs, there is a wooden bookshelf against the walt...” Describe objects, sounds, textures,
colors, smells, shapes, numbers and temperature. You can do this anywhere. For example, on the
subway: “I’m on the subway. I’ll see the river soon. Those are the windows. This is the bench. The
metal bar is silver. The subway map has four colors...”
♣ Play a “categories” game with yourself. Try to think of “types of dogs”, “jazz musicians”, “states that
begin with “A”, “cars”, “TV shows”, “writers”, “sports”, “songs”, “European cities.”
♣ Do an age progression. If you have regressed to a younger age (e.g., 8 years old), you can slowly work
your way backup (e.g., “I’m now 9”; “I’m now 10”; “I’m now 11”...) until you are back to your current
age.
♣ Describe an everyday activity in great detail. For example, describe a meal that you cook (e.g., First I
peel the potatoes and cut them into quarters, then I boil the water, I make an herb marinade of
oregano, basil, garlic, and olive oil...”).
♣ Imagine. Use an image: Glide along on skates away from your pain; change the TV channel to a better
show think of a wall as a buffer between you and your pain.
♣ Say a safety statement. ‘My name is _________; I am safe right now. I am in the present, not the past.
I am located in _____________ the date is _____________.
♣ Read something, saying each word to yourself. Or read each letter backwards so that you focus or the
letters and not on the meaning of words.
♣ Use humor. Think of something funny to jolt yourself out of your mood.
♣ Count to 10 or say the alphabet very s..l..o..w..l..y.
♣ Repeat a favorite saying to yourself over and over (e.g., the Serenity Prayer).
Physical Grounding
Run cool or warm water over your hands.
Grab tightly onto your chair as hard as you can.
Touch various objects around you: a pen. keys, your clothing, the table, the walls. Notice textures,
colors, materials, weight, temperature. Compare objects you touch: Is one colder? Lighter?
Dip your heels into the floor— literally “grounding” them! Notice the tension centered in your heels as
you do this. Remind yourself that you are connected to the ground.
Carry a ground object in your pocket—a small object (a small rock, clay, ring, piece of cloth or yarn)
that you can touch whenever you feel triggered.
Jump up and down.
Notice your body: The weight of your body in the chair; wiggling your toes in your socks; the feel of
your back against the chair. You are connected to the world.
Stretch. Extend your fingers, arms or legs as far as you can; roll your head around.
Walk slowly, noticing each footstep, saying “left,” “right” with each step.
Eat something. Describe the flavors in detail to yourself.
Focus on your breathing. Noticing each inhale and exhale. Repeat a pleasant word to yourself on each
inhale (for example, a favorite, color or a soothing word such as “safe” or “easy”).
Soothing Grounding
♥ Say kind statements, as if you were talking to a small child. E.g.. “You are a good person going through
a hard time. You’ll get through this.
♥ Think of favorites. Think of your favorite color, animal, season, food, time of day, TV show.
♥ Picture people you care about (e.g., your children; and look at photographs of them).
♥ Remember the words to an inspiring song, quotation or poem that makes you feel better (e.g.. the
Serenity Prayer).
♥ Remember a safe place. Describe a place that you find very soothing (perhaps the beach or mountains,
or a favorite room); focus on everything about that place—the sounds, colors, shapes, objects,
textures.
♥ Say a coping statement. “I can handle this”, “This feeling will pass.”
♥ Plan out a safe treat for yourself, such as a piece of candy, a nice dinner, or a warm bath.
♥ Think of things you are looking forward to in the next week. Perhaps time with a friend or going to a
movie.
♠ Practice faster. Speeding up the pace gets you focused on the outside world quickly.
♠ Try grounding for a Iooooooonnnng time (20-30 minutes). And, repeat, repeat, repeat.
♠ Try to notice whether you do better with “physical” or “mental” grounding.
♠ Create your own methods of grounding. Any method you make up may be worth much more than
those you read here because it is yours.
♠ Start grounding early in a negative mood cycle. Start when the substance craving just starts or when
you have just started having a flashback.
Copyright: Guilford Press (New York). From: Najavits LM. “Seeking Safety”: A Treatment Manual
for PTSD and Substance Abuse (in press). Cannot be reprinted without permission.
submitted by Opening-Campaign-532 to healingheartsminds [link] [comments]
Lisa Najavits, PhD
WHAT IS GROUNDING?
Grounding is a set of simple strategies to detach from emotional pain (for example, drug cravings,
self-harm impulses, anger, sadness). Distraction works by focusing outward on the external world—rather
than inward toward the self. You can also think of it as “distraction”, centering,” “a safe place,” looking
“outward,” or “healthy detachment.”
WHY DO GROUNDING?
When you are overwhelmed with emotional pain, you need a way to detach so that you can gain control
over your feelings and stay safe. As long as you are grounding, you cannot possibly use substances or hurt yourself. Grounding ‘anchors’ you to the present and to reality.
Many people with PTSD and substance abuse struggle with either feeling too much (overwhelming
emotions and memories) or too little (numbing and dissociation). In grounding, you attain balance
between the two—conscious of reality and able to tolerate it.
GUIDELINES
Grounding can be done any time, any place, anywhere and no one has to know.
Use grounding when you are: faced with a trigger, having a flashback, dissociating, having a
substance craving, or when your emotional pain goes above 6 (on a 0-10 scale). Grounding puts
healthy distance between you and these negative feelings.
Keep your eyes open, scan the room, and turn the light on to stay in touch with the present.
Rate your mood before and after to test whether it worked. Before grounding, rate your level of
emotional pain (0-10, where 10 means “extreme pain”). Then re-rate it afterwards. Has it gone down?
No talking about negative feelings or journal writing. You want to distract away from negative
feelings, not get in touch with them.
Stay neutral—no judgments of “good” and “bad’. For example, “The walls are blue; I dislike blue
because it reminds me of depression.” Simply say “The wafts are blue” and move on.
Focus on the present, not the past or future.
Note that grounding is not the same as relaxation training. Grounding is much more active, focuses
on distraction strategies and is intended to help extreme negative feelings. It is believed to be more.
effective for PTSD than relaxation training.
WAYS TO GROUND
Mental Grounding
♣ Describe your environment in detail using all your senses. For example, “The walls are white; there are
five pink chairs, there is a wooden bookshelf against the walt...” Describe objects, sounds, textures,
colors, smells, shapes, numbers and temperature. You can do this anywhere. For example, on the
subway: “I’m on the subway. I’ll see the river soon. Those are the windows. This is the bench. The
metal bar is silver. The subway map has four colors...”
♣ Play a “categories” game with yourself. Try to think of “types of dogs”, “jazz musicians”, “states that
begin with “A”, “cars”, “TV shows”, “writers”, “sports”, “songs”, “European cities.”
♣ Do an age progression. If you have regressed to a younger age (e.g., 8 years old), you can slowly work
your way backup (e.g., “I’m now 9”; “I’m now 10”; “I’m now 11”...) until you are back to your current
age.
♣ Describe an everyday activity in great detail. For example, describe a meal that you cook (e.g., First I
peel the potatoes and cut them into quarters, then I boil the water, I make an herb marinade of
oregano, basil, garlic, and olive oil...”).
♣ Imagine. Use an image: Glide along on skates away from your pain; change the TV channel to a better
show think of a wall as a buffer between you and your pain.
♣ Say a safety statement. ‘My name is _________; I am safe right now. I am in the present, not the past.
I am located in _____________ the date is _____________.
♣ Read something, saying each word to yourself. Or read each letter backwards so that you focus or the
letters and not on the meaning of words.
♣ Use humor. Think of something funny to jolt yourself out of your mood.
♣ Count to 10 or say the alphabet very s..l..o..w..l..y.
♣ Repeat a favorite saying to yourself over and over (e.g., the Serenity Prayer).
Physical Grounding
Run cool or warm water over your hands.
Grab tightly onto your chair as hard as you can.
Touch various objects around you: a pen. keys, your clothing, the table, the walls. Notice textures,
colors, materials, weight, temperature. Compare objects you touch: Is one colder? Lighter?
Dip your heels into the floor— literally “grounding” them! Notice the tension centered in your heels as
you do this. Remind yourself that you are connected to the ground.
Carry a ground object in your pocket—a small object (a small rock, clay, ring, piece of cloth or yarn)
that you can touch whenever you feel triggered.
Jump up and down.
Notice your body: The weight of your body in the chair; wiggling your toes in your socks; the feel of
your back against the chair. You are connected to the world.
Stretch. Extend your fingers, arms or legs as far as you can; roll your head around.
Walk slowly, noticing each footstep, saying “left,” “right” with each step.
Eat something. Describe the flavors in detail to yourself.
Focus on your breathing. Noticing each inhale and exhale. Repeat a pleasant word to yourself on each
inhale (for example, a favorite, color or a soothing word such as “safe” or “easy”).
Soothing Grounding
♥ Say kind statements, as if you were talking to a small child. E.g.. “You are a good person going through
a hard time. You’ll get through this.
♥ Think of favorites. Think of your favorite color, animal, season, food, time of day, TV show.
♥ Picture people you care about (e.g., your children; and look at photographs of them).
♥ Remember the words to an inspiring song, quotation or poem that makes you feel better (e.g.. the
Serenity Prayer).
♥ Remember a safe place. Describe a place that you find very soothing (perhaps the beach or mountains,
or a favorite room); focus on everything about that place—the sounds, colors, shapes, objects,
textures.
♥ Say a coping statement. “I can handle this”, “This feeling will pass.”
♥ Plan out a safe treat for yourself, such as a piece of candy, a nice dinner, or a warm bath.
♥ Think of things you are looking forward to in the next week. Perhaps time with a friend or going to a
movie.
WHAT IF GROUNDING DOESN’T WORK?
♠ Practice as often as possible. Even when you don’t “need” it, so that you’ll know it by heart.♠ Practice faster. Speeding up the pace gets you focused on the outside world quickly.
♠ Try grounding for a Iooooooonnnng time (20-30 minutes). And, repeat, repeat, repeat.
♠ Try to notice whether you do better with “physical” or “mental” grounding.
♠ Create your own methods of grounding. Any method you make up may be worth much more than
those you read here because it is yours.
♠ Start grounding early in a negative mood cycle. Start when the substance craving just starts or when
you have just started having a flashback.
Copyright: Guilford Press (New York). From: Najavits LM. “Seeking Safety”: A Treatment Manual
for PTSD and Substance Abuse (in press). Cannot be reprinted without permission.
2023.06.02 16:35 ProvenStrange The Ultimate Disguise
I’m not sure if this is the right place to be posting this, but I don’t know where else to go for help. I know that after I describe the events that just happened, the ones involved may come looking for me. I have decided it’s worth the risk though. I’m still pretty shaken up, but I’m going to do my best to recall everything exactly as it happened. If something similar has happened to you or anyone you know, and you could advise me what to do next, I would really appreciate it. It might actually save my life.
Last night wasn’t the first time I had been woken up by a sound coming from the wall behind my bed. It sounded like something LARGE and HEAVY sliding along the other side of the wall. It was especially odd, because I didn’t think there was anything on the other side of that wall. I thought I had heard it several nights before this one, but was never certain if I had dreamt it or not. This time though, I knew I was awake. I was lying in bed next to my husband, Jason. I had my eyes closed, while trying to fall asleep. I couldn’t stop thinking about the fight Jason and I had a couple hours before. He told me in the five years we had been married, he had never seen me like this— a complete shell of the person I once was. He told me that I had let my paranoia completely consume me. I could tell he was deeply concerned, but also frustrated with my lack of effort to dispel it. I knew that even if I was honest about what I was worrying about though, he would not understand.
I slowly sat up in bed, straining to listen for another sound. Maybe it was some kind of animal? It sounded much too large to be a raccoon though, and bears are not common in our area. As I slowly leaned in closer to the wall, my heart jolted as I heard a very loud, THUMP THUMP. It sounded like a deliberate pounding on the other side of the wall, almost as if it was trying to get my attention.
In a low whisper, I immediately called out to Jason as he slept next to me. How could he have slept through that? He didn’t even stir, so I called his name again and tried touching his shoulder. He continued to sleep like a baby. I was about to call his name one more time when I remembered that my paranoia was the main reason for our fight earlier. Would he even believe me? I sat in the dark for a few more minutes before deciding to get up and investigate myself.
As I made my way downstairs, I caught a glimpse of a photo of the two of us from our honeymoon. Although it was from only five years ago, Jason and I looked so much younger. It was probably due to the fact that we were smiling so big. I have been trying so hard to be that happy girl in the photo for him and for me, but recently, I haven’t even come close.
I decided to start my investigation of the mysterious sound with the garage, since it is located directly under our bedroom. I flipped the light on and scanned the room from wall to wall, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Everything looked the way it was supposed to. Our car was parked out on the street that night, so the garage was just a large, echoey room. Gardening tools, storage containers, cleaning supples and various pieces of sporting equipment packed the shelves along the far wall. There was also a small stockpile of food and water Jason liked to keep just in case of a disaster. Remember, being paranoid is my thing though…
I made my way over to the shelves to see if anything could have made a noise like the one I heard. As I was halfway across the garage, I heard a loud SLAM come from above me. My eyes darted up to the attic door in the ceiling and the pull string that dangled from it. The string was slowly swaying from left to right.
Great. That’s normal, right? I never realized that our bedroom shared a wall with the attic until now. I thought hard about running upstairs to get Jason’s help. That would be the most logical thing to do, but just as I was about to do that, I had this feeling. I had a very faint idea of what could be the source of the disturbance, but knew that it would defy logic. I also knew that based on the five weeks we had been together, if there was even the slightest chance that my suspicion was correct about the source of the noise, Jason would not understand— nor would he even be willing to help me deal with it. If I was going to be able to protect the both of us, I knew I had to deal with this myself.
I walked over to the attic door and grabbed the pull string. With a loud CREEEAAAAK the door slowly swung down. I grabbed the ladder attached to the door and unfolded it down to the ground. I directed my attention back up to the ceiling, and stared into the black hole that was the attic entrance.
My eyes strained to make out anything inside, while I waited for something— anything to come out of the darkness. I turned to the shelf next to me and grabbed a flashlight. After pointing it toward the black hole in the ceiling, I still couldn’t make out anything, so I contemplated my options. Less thinking, just do, Mel. I knew that if I waited any longer, my thoughts would scare me into complete paralysis, so I began to climb. With each step, the ladder let out a painful creak. This ladder was as old as the house, and I have no idea if it was ever inspected. The way it would bend under my very minimal bodyweight made me realize the very real possibility that it could give out at any time. We really need to have this thing inspected…
The black hole grew bigger and bigger with each step. I held my breath the whole time, ready for either the ladder to crumble beneath me or something to emerge from the darkness. Thankfully, neither of those things happened. Once my head breached the attic opening, I remembered to breathe, and drew in a large breath of stale, musty air.
I scanned the attic with my flashlight. It wasn’t really a room— more just a storage space between the ceiling of the garage and the roof of the house. The ceiling formed a triangle with the highest point being only five feet tall. As I slowly panned my flashlight across the space, its beam revealed various objects in storage— an old dollhouse, a large shop vacuum, a full-sized scarecrow, a snow shovel, a vintage suitcase, a pair of kayak paddles, several boxes, and lots of Christmas and Halloween decorations. The holiday decorations appeared pretty unsettling in the beam of the flashlight…probably because a lot of them had faces that were looking back at me. The witch especially gave me the creeps with her pale, green skin, hands covered in warts, and open mouth full of yellow teeth. Oh and don’t forget the random Christmas elf’s detached head just resting on top of a box with its single, beady eye reflecting back at me! Why does it only have one eye?? Why is its head not with its body?? Why do we even have this thing??
After doing a full scan of the space with my flashlight, I reached behind me to turn on the attic light. The second the light turned on, I jumped as I heard the sound of movement coming from the pile of junk in front of me. I held my breath and stared long and hard, while looking for any sign of movement. THAT WITCH BETTER NOT MOVE, I SWEAR. After a long minute of waiting, nothing had moved in the slightest.
Just as I was letting out my long awaited exhale, a loud, “BWAK BWAK BWAK,” erupted from my right side. I whipped my head around to reveal a plush toy of a chicken lying on the floor on its side.
“BWAK BWAK BWAK,” its electronic voice box cried out again. I looked around, wondering what could have caused it to go off. The floorboards beneath me creaked as I crawled my way over to the plush chicken and picked it up. I stared into its black, soulless eyes. There was something about this chicken. It felt too personal for some reason— almost like it was a taunt. Then, I heard the sound of movement coming from the pile of junk again. I looked back and could have sworn one of the objects had moved. Was it the witch? The scarecrow? I couldn’t tell for sure.
I waited several seconds before directing my attention back to the chicken. That’s when I noticed something behind it. About 4 feet up from the floor, there was a very small hole in the wall about the size of a pea. I put my eye up to it, and my stomach lurched. Through the hole, I could see right into my bedroom. I couldn’t see the bed so well, but I could make out pretty much anything at eye level. Whoever or WHATEVER was in the attic could have been watching us this whole time. From inside the bedroom, the hole was positioned just under one of the framed pictures hanging on the wall. The shadow from the frame must have concealed it all this time. I could feel my heart rate begin to drastically accelerate. I turned back to the pile of junk, since whoever or whatever was in the attic with me must be hiding somewhere in that pile.
That’s when I noticed what had changed. Earlier, the scarecrow was sitting upright with its back against a box, but now it was slumped over with one hand extended out toward me. And was it closer?? I stared at its still, faceless head hidden in shadow beneath the brim of a wide, black farmer’s hat. I looked for any sign of life in its body, which wore a red flannel shirt covered in hay and stained khaki pants with patches on the knees. I began to hyperventilate. Come on, Mel! If you have a panic attack now, you are done for!
I slowly backed away from the scarecrow until I heard a loud CRUNCH under my feet. I looked down and saw that I had stepped on an empty plastic water bottle. I gasped in horror as I noticed several other empty water bottles along with empty food cans and a pile of blankets resembling a makeshift bed. SOMEONE WAS LIVING IN OUR ATTIC.
Before I could react, I heard fast stomping coming right toward me. I looked up and saw the scarecrow LUNGING for me. I fell onto my back with my eyes closed, and braced for the inevitable. I heard the sound of movement, the creaking of the ladder, and then all was silent. My eyes slowly opened. The scarecrow had vanished.
I crawled over to the attic entrance in the floor. The garage light below had now been switched off, so the way down was nothing but a black void. I grabbed the flashlight and pointed it down into the garage. I let out a gasp as I saw the scarecrow standing directly at the bottom of the ladder facing up at me. I wanted to scream, but nothing was coming out. It stood there perfectly still…almost too still for a person to be inside of it. Was this a person?? I waited and waited until…it CHARGED at the ladder, making its way toward me.
I frantically dove toward the pile of junk and grabbed a paddle to defend myself. When I turned back to the ladder, the scarecrow was gone. There was only the rickety ladder and the black void below me. I gave myself a few seconds to catch my breath. If I was in fact dealing with what I suspected I was dealing with, I had a right to be scared out of my mind. I also knew that I couldn’t let it get to Jason first. Whatever this thing was, I had to stop it.
After taking a deep breath, I made my way down the ladder. I held my flashlight in one hand and the paddle in the other. I made sure to alternate the flashlight between the steps below me and the rest of the garage. If the scarecrow was able to knock me off the ladder, I would be done for. When my feet finally touched the concrete floor, I wanted to let out a sigh of relief, but I knew the fight was still ahead of me….or maybe behind me. It was so dark, the scarecrow really could have been anywhere.
If I could just make it to the door to the house, I knew I could flip on the light, spot the scarecrow, and charge it with everything I had. I walked as fast as I could toward the door, whipping my flashlight in all directions. I only got halfway through the garage when I heard a loud squeaking noise to my left. I knew I wasn’t getting the chance to make it to the light switch. I slowly turned my flashlight to reveal the scarecrow slumped over and sitting on an old, red Radio Flyer wagon.
This was it. I knew that the element of surprise was all I had.
I charged at it with everything inside of me. I swung the paddle again and again with all of my strength. I wouldn’t let this thing ruin the life I had worked so hard to obtain. I didn’t stop swinging until the scarecrow was completely facedown on the ground. My rage turned to fear as I slowly sensed something was off. I realized the scarecrow’s torso had become completely separated from its legs during the beating. My heart nearly stopped when I finally realized that there was nothing inside of the scarecrow but hay.
I poked its body a few times before I noticed a trail of straw leading away from it. Wherever this trail led to, I knew it wasn’t going to be good. As I followed the trail of hay with my flashlight in one hand, I shakily held my paddle in the other, ready to strike again. The trail curled away from me until it ended at A PAIR OF BARE HUMAN FEET. I let out a quiet scream as I tilted my flashlight up as fast as I could and—WHAM! I could barely make out the image of a metal baseball bat whirling toward my head before everything went black.
I woke up only a few seconds later on the garage floor with my head throbbing in pain. My vision was fuzzy, but I could see there was a shape standing in front of me. It was backlit by the light of my flashlight, which had rolled away from me. It took a few seconds for my eyes to focus on the pair of bare, dirty feet in front of me, covered in hay. As I slowly tilted my head up, I could see those feet were attached to a pair of legs wearing tattered pants. Those legs were attached to a body with two arms— one holding a metal baseball bat. The body was attached to a head, and on that head, was a face. It was exactly the face I feared I would see. It was the face of a woman with the exact same face as me— the face of Melody Bennett.
“No,” I gasped. “How did—“
Melody stared at me with rage in her eyes. Pieces of hay covered her hair.
I turned my head to the side and looked at the scarecrow’s lifeless, empty body next to me. Then, I turned and looked at Melody’s hay-covered feet.
I have to admit it now. Wearing the scarecrow as a disguise was a brilliant strategy. She really took a page from my book of deception and used it against me.
“Your life was mine,” I began to cry with eyes full of fear. “I took it from you.”
“I’m taking it back,” she declared and raised her bat high.
I tried to let out a scream, but it was too late. She was already on top of me. Whaling on me with the speed and aggression of a wild animal. She struck my head with the baseball bat again and again. With each blow, I could feel my face start to change out of the face of Melody and back into its natural form. First, my mouth morphed away, followed by my nose, and then my ears. Just as she was about to swing what would have been the killing blow, I threw my hand up and grabbed the bat. Both of us were now struggling for control of the bat. That’s when I could see my true face reflected in Melody’s eyes. My two eyes were wide and bulging, completely filled with terror. My other features were completely gone. Smooth skin was now in their place. I looked into Melody’s eyes as we struggled with the bat. This was a woman that would stop at nothing to take back her life and be rid of me. I wasn’t going to win this fight. I had to escape.
My fear somehow gave me enough adrenaline to throw her off of me. I knew I only had a second before she would be on top of me again, so I booked it out of the house as fast as I could.
I didn’t stop running until I was across the street hidden in the shadows of a neighbor’s tree. I turned back to see Melody standing in front of her house blocking any hope I had of going back there to her beautiful, lovely life— a life, which she had taken for granted until now. She had the last five weeks to think about it as she was living in the attic. All that time, she watched helplessly behind the wall of her own bedroom as I, an imposter wearing her face, tried my best to pass as her. She had all that time to watch me, study my weaknesses, and devise a plan to take her life back.
From across the street, I watched as she took in one last big breath, smelling the fresh air and appreciating the world she had once taken for granted. She slowly exhaled before walking confidently back into her house and locking me out for good.
I can’t tell you how frustrated I am that this one didn’t work out for me. I thought for sure that I had killed Melody before I had replaced her. I thought for sure that I was going to get to live in her place forever. I won’t make the same mistake again. Next time, I will make sure the person I am replacing is actually dead.
I know most of you reading this will probably think I’m just a normal person making this story up to scare you. I was counting on that. You probably wouldn’t believe me if I told you that there are many like me living among you.
To those of you that are like me, please let me know if you have had a similarly frustrating experience. Besides the very obvious mistake I already mentioned, what can I do differently next time? If you have any advice or know anything else I did wrong, please tell me.
I just want to find a nice life and be happy like everyone else. Why does it have to be this difficult?
submitted by ProvenStrange to nosleep [link] [comments]
Last night wasn’t the first time I had been woken up by a sound coming from the wall behind my bed. It sounded like something LARGE and HEAVY sliding along the other side of the wall. It was especially odd, because I didn’t think there was anything on the other side of that wall. I thought I had heard it several nights before this one, but was never certain if I had dreamt it or not. This time though, I knew I was awake. I was lying in bed next to my husband, Jason. I had my eyes closed, while trying to fall asleep. I couldn’t stop thinking about the fight Jason and I had a couple hours before. He told me in the five years we had been married, he had never seen me like this— a complete shell of the person I once was. He told me that I had let my paranoia completely consume me. I could tell he was deeply concerned, but also frustrated with my lack of effort to dispel it. I knew that even if I was honest about what I was worrying about though, he would not understand.
I slowly sat up in bed, straining to listen for another sound. Maybe it was some kind of animal? It sounded much too large to be a raccoon though, and bears are not common in our area. As I slowly leaned in closer to the wall, my heart jolted as I heard a very loud, THUMP THUMP. It sounded like a deliberate pounding on the other side of the wall, almost as if it was trying to get my attention.
In a low whisper, I immediately called out to Jason as he slept next to me. How could he have slept through that? He didn’t even stir, so I called his name again and tried touching his shoulder. He continued to sleep like a baby. I was about to call his name one more time when I remembered that my paranoia was the main reason for our fight earlier. Would he even believe me? I sat in the dark for a few more minutes before deciding to get up and investigate myself.
As I made my way downstairs, I caught a glimpse of a photo of the two of us from our honeymoon. Although it was from only five years ago, Jason and I looked so much younger. It was probably due to the fact that we were smiling so big. I have been trying so hard to be that happy girl in the photo for him and for me, but recently, I haven’t even come close.
I decided to start my investigation of the mysterious sound with the garage, since it is located directly under our bedroom. I flipped the light on and scanned the room from wall to wall, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Everything looked the way it was supposed to. Our car was parked out on the street that night, so the garage was just a large, echoey room. Gardening tools, storage containers, cleaning supples and various pieces of sporting equipment packed the shelves along the far wall. There was also a small stockpile of food and water Jason liked to keep just in case of a disaster. Remember, being paranoid is my thing though…
I made my way over to the shelves to see if anything could have made a noise like the one I heard. As I was halfway across the garage, I heard a loud SLAM come from above me. My eyes darted up to the attic door in the ceiling and the pull string that dangled from it. The string was slowly swaying from left to right.
Great. That’s normal, right? I never realized that our bedroom shared a wall with the attic until now. I thought hard about running upstairs to get Jason’s help. That would be the most logical thing to do, but just as I was about to do that, I had this feeling. I had a very faint idea of what could be the source of the disturbance, but knew that it would defy logic. I also knew that based on the five weeks we had been together, if there was even the slightest chance that my suspicion was correct about the source of the noise, Jason would not understand— nor would he even be willing to help me deal with it. If I was going to be able to protect the both of us, I knew I had to deal with this myself.
I walked over to the attic door and grabbed the pull string. With a loud CREEEAAAAK the door slowly swung down. I grabbed the ladder attached to the door and unfolded it down to the ground. I directed my attention back up to the ceiling, and stared into the black hole that was the attic entrance.
My eyes strained to make out anything inside, while I waited for something— anything to come out of the darkness. I turned to the shelf next to me and grabbed a flashlight. After pointing it toward the black hole in the ceiling, I still couldn’t make out anything, so I contemplated my options. Less thinking, just do, Mel. I knew that if I waited any longer, my thoughts would scare me into complete paralysis, so I began to climb. With each step, the ladder let out a painful creak. This ladder was as old as the house, and I have no idea if it was ever inspected. The way it would bend under my very minimal bodyweight made me realize the very real possibility that it could give out at any time. We really need to have this thing inspected…
The black hole grew bigger and bigger with each step. I held my breath the whole time, ready for either the ladder to crumble beneath me or something to emerge from the darkness. Thankfully, neither of those things happened. Once my head breached the attic opening, I remembered to breathe, and drew in a large breath of stale, musty air.
I scanned the attic with my flashlight. It wasn’t really a room— more just a storage space between the ceiling of the garage and the roof of the house. The ceiling formed a triangle with the highest point being only five feet tall. As I slowly panned my flashlight across the space, its beam revealed various objects in storage— an old dollhouse, a large shop vacuum, a full-sized scarecrow, a snow shovel, a vintage suitcase, a pair of kayak paddles, several boxes, and lots of Christmas and Halloween decorations. The holiday decorations appeared pretty unsettling in the beam of the flashlight…probably because a lot of them had faces that were looking back at me. The witch especially gave me the creeps with her pale, green skin, hands covered in warts, and open mouth full of yellow teeth. Oh and don’t forget the random Christmas elf’s detached head just resting on top of a box with its single, beady eye reflecting back at me! Why does it only have one eye?? Why is its head not with its body?? Why do we even have this thing??
After doing a full scan of the space with my flashlight, I reached behind me to turn on the attic light. The second the light turned on, I jumped as I heard the sound of movement coming from the pile of junk in front of me. I held my breath and stared long and hard, while looking for any sign of movement. THAT WITCH BETTER NOT MOVE, I SWEAR. After a long minute of waiting, nothing had moved in the slightest.
Just as I was letting out my long awaited exhale, a loud, “BWAK BWAK BWAK,” erupted from my right side. I whipped my head around to reveal a plush toy of a chicken lying on the floor on its side.
“BWAK BWAK BWAK,” its electronic voice box cried out again. I looked around, wondering what could have caused it to go off. The floorboards beneath me creaked as I crawled my way over to the plush chicken and picked it up. I stared into its black, soulless eyes. There was something about this chicken. It felt too personal for some reason— almost like it was a taunt. Then, I heard the sound of movement coming from the pile of junk again. I looked back and could have sworn one of the objects had moved. Was it the witch? The scarecrow? I couldn’t tell for sure.
I waited several seconds before directing my attention back to the chicken. That’s when I noticed something behind it. About 4 feet up from the floor, there was a very small hole in the wall about the size of a pea. I put my eye up to it, and my stomach lurched. Through the hole, I could see right into my bedroom. I couldn’t see the bed so well, but I could make out pretty much anything at eye level. Whoever or WHATEVER was in the attic could have been watching us this whole time. From inside the bedroom, the hole was positioned just under one of the framed pictures hanging on the wall. The shadow from the frame must have concealed it all this time. I could feel my heart rate begin to drastically accelerate. I turned back to the pile of junk, since whoever or whatever was in the attic with me must be hiding somewhere in that pile.
That’s when I noticed what had changed. Earlier, the scarecrow was sitting upright with its back against a box, but now it was slumped over with one hand extended out toward me. And was it closer?? I stared at its still, faceless head hidden in shadow beneath the brim of a wide, black farmer’s hat. I looked for any sign of life in its body, which wore a red flannel shirt covered in hay and stained khaki pants with patches on the knees. I began to hyperventilate. Come on, Mel! If you have a panic attack now, you are done for!
I slowly backed away from the scarecrow until I heard a loud CRUNCH under my feet. I looked down and saw that I had stepped on an empty plastic water bottle. I gasped in horror as I noticed several other empty water bottles along with empty food cans and a pile of blankets resembling a makeshift bed. SOMEONE WAS LIVING IN OUR ATTIC.
Before I could react, I heard fast stomping coming right toward me. I looked up and saw the scarecrow LUNGING for me. I fell onto my back with my eyes closed, and braced for the inevitable. I heard the sound of movement, the creaking of the ladder, and then all was silent. My eyes slowly opened. The scarecrow had vanished.
I crawled over to the attic entrance in the floor. The garage light below had now been switched off, so the way down was nothing but a black void. I grabbed the flashlight and pointed it down into the garage. I let out a gasp as I saw the scarecrow standing directly at the bottom of the ladder facing up at me. I wanted to scream, but nothing was coming out. It stood there perfectly still…almost too still for a person to be inside of it. Was this a person?? I waited and waited until…it CHARGED at the ladder, making its way toward me.
I frantically dove toward the pile of junk and grabbed a paddle to defend myself. When I turned back to the ladder, the scarecrow was gone. There was only the rickety ladder and the black void below me. I gave myself a few seconds to catch my breath. If I was in fact dealing with what I suspected I was dealing with, I had a right to be scared out of my mind. I also knew that I couldn’t let it get to Jason first. Whatever this thing was, I had to stop it.
After taking a deep breath, I made my way down the ladder. I held my flashlight in one hand and the paddle in the other. I made sure to alternate the flashlight between the steps below me and the rest of the garage. If the scarecrow was able to knock me off the ladder, I would be done for. When my feet finally touched the concrete floor, I wanted to let out a sigh of relief, but I knew the fight was still ahead of me….or maybe behind me. It was so dark, the scarecrow really could have been anywhere.
If I could just make it to the door to the house, I knew I could flip on the light, spot the scarecrow, and charge it with everything I had. I walked as fast as I could toward the door, whipping my flashlight in all directions. I only got halfway through the garage when I heard a loud squeaking noise to my left. I knew I wasn’t getting the chance to make it to the light switch. I slowly turned my flashlight to reveal the scarecrow slumped over and sitting on an old, red Radio Flyer wagon.
This was it. I knew that the element of surprise was all I had.
I charged at it with everything inside of me. I swung the paddle again and again with all of my strength. I wouldn’t let this thing ruin the life I had worked so hard to obtain. I didn’t stop swinging until the scarecrow was completely facedown on the ground. My rage turned to fear as I slowly sensed something was off. I realized the scarecrow’s torso had become completely separated from its legs during the beating. My heart nearly stopped when I finally realized that there was nothing inside of the scarecrow but hay.
I poked its body a few times before I noticed a trail of straw leading away from it. Wherever this trail led to, I knew it wasn’t going to be good. As I followed the trail of hay with my flashlight in one hand, I shakily held my paddle in the other, ready to strike again. The trail curled away from me until it ended at A PAIR OF BARE HUMAN FEET. I let out a quiet scream as I tilted my flashlight up as fast as I could and—WHAM! I could barely make out the image of a metal baseball bat whirling toward my head before everything went black.
I woke up only a few seconds later on the garage floor with my head throbbing in pain. My vision was fuzzy, but I could see there was a shape standing in front of me. It was backlit by the light of my flashlight, which had rolled away from me. It took a few seconds for my eyes to focus on the pair of bare, dirty feet in front of me, covered in hay. As I slowly tilted my head up, I could see those feet were attached to a pair of legs wearing tattered pants. Those legs were attached to a body with two arms— one holding a metal baseball bat. The body was attached to a head, and on that head, was a face. It was exactly the face I feared I would see. It was the face of a woman with the exact same face as me— the face of Melody Bennett.
“No,” I gasped. “How did—“
Melody stared at me with rage in her eyes. Pieces of hay covered her hair.
I turned my head to the side and looked at the scarecrow’s lifeless, empty body next to me. Then, I turned and looked at Melody’s hay-covered feet.
I have to admit it now. Wearing the scarecrow as a disguise was a brilliant strategy. She really took a page from my book of deception and used it against me.
“Your life was mine,” I began to cry with eyes full of fear. “I took it from you.”
“I’m taking it back,” she declared and raised her bat high.
I tried to let out a scream, but it was too late. She was already on top of me. Whaling on me with the speed and aggression of a wild animal. She struck my head with the baseball bat again and again. With each blow, I could feel my face start to change out of the face of Melody and back into its natural form. First, my mouth morphed away, followed by my nose, and then my ears. Just as she was about to swing what would have been the killing blow, I threw my hand up and grabbed the bat. Both of us were now struggling for control of the bat. That’s when I could see my true face reflected in Melody’s eyes. My two eyes were wide and bulging, completely filled with terror. My other features were completely gone. Smooth skin was now in their place. I looked into Melody’s eyes as we struggled with the bat. This was a woman that would stop at nothing to take back her life and be rid of me. I wasn’t going to win this fight. I had to escape.
My fear somehow gave me enough adrenaline to throw her off of me. I knew I only had a second before she would be on top of me again, so I booked it out of the house as fast as I could.
I didn’t stop running until I was across the street hidden in the shadows of a neighbor’s tree. I turned back to see Melody standing in front of her house blocking any hope I had of going back there to her beautiful, lovely life— a life, which she had taken for granted until now. She had the last five weeks to think about it as she was living in the attic. All that time, she watched helplessly behind the wall of her own bedroom as I, an imposter wearing her face, tried my best to pass as her. She had all that time to watch me, study my weaknesses, and devise a plan to take her life back.
From across the street, I watched as she took in one last big breath, smelling the fresh air and appreciating the world she had once taken for granted. She slowly exhaled before walking confidently back into her house and locking me out for good.
I can’t tell you how frustrated I am that this one didn’t work out for me. I thought for sure that I had killed Melody before I had replaced her. I thought for sure that I was going to get to live in her place forever. I won’t make the same mistake again. Next time, I will make sure the person I am replacing is actually dead.
I know most of you reading this will probably think I’m just a normal person making this story up to scare you. I was counting on that. You probably wouldn’t believe me if I told you that there are many like me living among you.
To those of you that are like me, please let me know if you have had a similarly frustrating experience. Besides the very obvious mistake I already mentioned, what can I do differently next time? If you have any advice or know anything else I did wrong, please tell me.
I just want to find a nice life and be happy like everyone else. Why does it have to be this difficult?
2023.06.02 16:21 Ok-Kick832 Hi here is episode six and seven of my Walking With Dinosaurs
Episode 6:
Spirits of The Frozen Forest:
It begins in the Early Jurassic with a cynodont in the darkness at the waters edge when it is eaten a large amphibian the next the day the sun rises awakening ornithischian colony living in the darkness for many months they leave and are grazing on some ferns a herd of Glaciasaurus come to graze and feed together with their symbiotic Dimorphodon buddies. Several panther like cynodonts come out and relax in the summer sun with the ornithischians when they are stalked by a large Cryolophosaurus which manages to kill one Glaciasaurus but nothing else.
The cynodonts are revealed to have a littler of pups which the cynodonts care for and need nutrients for them so the female leaves to find the ornithischian's clans burrows but are scared off when they throw their litter at her the next day a small group of cryolophosaurus young discover the nest and the cynodonts have to move away holding their young in their jaws.
The colonies eggs hatch during the months of darkness and the mothers have to venture out in the dark and the gloom one stops to drink at the waters edge but is killed by an amphibian which was awoken by the chirps. At dawn the group leave to feed with one guarding the burrows and under the cover of darkness they find enough bedding to keep them warm when a pterosaur lets out a warning cry which scares them off the pterosaur then eats the bedding and takes the rest to its chicks. When the sun finally rises a herd of primitive sauropods moves into the area but thanks to their loud noises they interrupt the colony from watching for predators and so a cryolophosaurus kills one and leaves this scares several of the young to the waters edge where the newly awakened water killer attacks and misses with the young being found by their parents and sleep in their burrows safe for now.
Episode 7
New Blood:
The episode begins with a herd of Placerias wading through a large body of water in their desert/ forest home where several are killed by several phytosaurs. The blood pours downstream to a hunting Lilliensternus hunting for lung fish near some trees by a sleeping Desmatosuchus half submerged like a hippo which awakes to the blood and storms off scaring the lungfish. it wiggles its arms in frustration and moves back to its forest home where it comes across a group of hatchling Burolestes (which are noticed as being out of place) and our plucky dinosaur hunts them all apart from one little one that escapes through a tunnel in the ground which was occupied by a small cynodont that has mysteriously left while the dinosaur feasts on the corpses it comes across a pterosaur feasting on some corpses our protagonist kills it chases it away in frustration.
Out in the outskirts of the forest a large corpse with no head or legs or a tail lies in a field of hatching little creatures (that are prosauropods but are only called juveniles) the large corpse in their hatching fields attracts some dinosaurs and the apex predator a female Smok comes and scares the dinosaurs and eats some of the prosauropods but most manage to escape but some are killed by the dinosaurs. A couple years go and the little prosauropods have formed little creche's and are stuck together grazing in a gorge where several cynodonts growl at them menacingly and pterosaurs fly above hunting insects a desmatosuchus sleeping to the side and a Smok coming through the only entrance the prosauropods panic and run towards the Desmatosuchus which while waving its tail kills a prosauropod but also scares the Smok who is content to feast on the carcasses. Several scavenging dinosaurs come across the carrion after the smok is done with it and feast on its remains. The next day the prosauropods exit the gorge and go out to the not forest where a herd of placerias are grazing. The Placerias are eating stones and digging large holes in the ground where they are laying their eggs but small burolestes are sneaking in and laying their eggs in some of the holes to provide their young with a meal when they hatch, the Placerias are shown to live in mega herds as a very successful species with two males fighting over a part of the mega herd one loses and takes its anger out on the prosauropods and kills one and they retreat to the other side of the river. The dry season occurs and most dinosaurs and creatures are killed during a sand storm including all of the mega herd apart from two isolated pockets of only five individuals the survivors like some dinosaurs five of the remaining prosauropods, Smok and the cynodonts and the living desmatosuchus eat the carrion for extra nutrition.
The Smok starved but sane attacks a Desmatosuchus and has its right leg injured it then a few weeks later hunts the last Placerias in the area and has its second leg torn out and it lies there bleeding on the floor she is eaten by a flock of dinosaurs which sanely stay out of the way until it stops moving by the end of the dry season all of the remaining Placerias, phytosaurs, Smok's and Desmatosuchus are bones the dinosaurs and the two surviving prosauropods and cynodonts are the lucky ones that survived the disaster it ends with the prosauropods being revealed as Plateosaurus as a large sane herd of them come by the area to feast on the new plants as all the grazers were killed weeks ago.
Special Episode 8: The Old Doe
The episode begins in the Triassic showing a herd of lystrosaurus being hunted by a mysterious predator when a little lizard like creature hops onto the screen and scavenges from the corpses it then suddenly evolves into a mysterious dinosaur that evolves into a Lambeosaurus male walking through his swampy water home and returns to his home herd of parasaurolophus and Lambeosaurus and Styracosaurus, the Styracosaurus are lead by the strongest individual in this case an old doe with so many scars her skin is most red she steps away from her nest to sip water to instead discover blood dripping out from a re opened wound while she drinks three rowdy young males from a different herd come and challenge hers she attempts to subdue them and manages to accidentally kill one but thanks to there being two they manage to injure her so much she runs away being stalked by a pack of Daspletosaurus but she fends them off.
The old doe stumbles her way to another herd with an old buck as the leader who lets her into the herd she relaxes in the river and watches as a herd of Struthiomimus walk on the banks teaching their young how to swim if any danger is nearby. Back at the old herd a group of Dromaeosaurus feast on the old does eggs and hatchlings. A month passes by and mating season begins with the Parasaurolophus doing their peaceful displays, the Chasmosaurus flushing blood into their frills and the Pachyrhinosaurus ramming into each others heads. The Old Doe at her new herd takes care of her last batch of eggs and hatchlings with red frills from the Old Buck and watches as her old herd comes through with the two males being extremely scarred and weak from challenges by the other Styracosaurus and them foolishly attacking Centrosaurus herds for feeding grounds. The Old Buck holds his ground and manages to kill another one of the styracosaurus males the male runs away and stays in outskirts of the herd waiting for a weakness to exploit.
The breeding season concludes with a flash flood which kills the old Buck and half of the herd and many of the nearby creatures like the scavengers which are killed in the second flash flood. The herd manages to pull through and the Old Doe becomes the leader of the herd but the rowdy male challenges her band this time the doe wins and leaves him for the local Daspletosaurus who teach their young how to kill things. The Styracosaurus then has a mud bath and we conclude with Daspletosaurus evolving into a T Rex (65 MYA) which watches as a herd of Triceratops relax and their young play together in the same spot a bloodshed happened 10 million years before. The credits play off and it ends with how it began following a herd of edmontosaurus the same one from episode 1.
submitted by Ok-Kick832 to fixingmovies [link] [comments]
Spirits of The Frozen Forest:
It begins in the Early Jurassic with a cynodont in the darkness at the waters edge when it is eaten a large amphibian the next the day the sun rises awakening ornithischian colony living in the darkness for many months they leave and are grazing on some ferns a herd of Glaciasaurus come to graze and feed together with their symbiotic Dimorphodon buddies. Several panther like cynodonts come out and relax in the summer sun with the ornithischians when they are stalked by a large Cryolophosaurus which manages to kill one Glaciasaurus but nothing else.
The cynodonts are revealed to have a littler of pups which the cynodonts care for and need nutrients for them so the female leaves to find the ornithischian's clans burrows but are scared off when they throw their litter at her the next day a small group of cryolophosaurus young discover the nest and the cynodonts have to move away holding their young in their jaws.
The colonies eggs hatch during the months of darkness and the mothers have to venture out in the dark and the gloom one stops to drink at the waters edge but is killed by an amphibian which was awoken by the chirps. At dawn the group leave to feed with one guarding the burrows and under the cover of darkness they find enough bedding to keep them warm when a pterosaur lets out a warning cry which scares them off the pterosaur then eats the bedding and takes the rest to its chicks. When the sun finally rises a herd of primitive sauropods moves into the area but thanks to their loud noises they interrupt the colony from watching for predators and so a cryolophosaurus kills one and leaves this scares several of the young to the waters edge where the newly awakened water killer attacks and misses with the young being found by their parents and sleep in their burrows safe for now.
Episode 7
New Blood:
The episode begins with a herd of Placerias wading through a large body of water in their desert/ forest home where several are killed by several phytosaurs. The blood pours downstream to a hunting Lilliensternus hunting for lung fish near some trees by a sleeping Desmatosuchus half submerged like a hippo which awakes to the blood and storms off scaring the lungfish. it wiggles its arms in frustration and moves back to its forest home where it comes across a group of hatchling Burolestes (which are noticed as being out of place) and our plucky dinosaur hunts them all apart from one little one that escapes through a tunnel in the ground which was occupied by a small cynodont that has mysteriously left while the dinosaur feasts on the corpses it comes across a pterosaur feasting on some corpses our protagonist kills it chases it away in frustration.
Out in the outskirts of the forest a large corpse with no head or legs or a tail lies in a field of hatching little creatures (that are prosauropods but are only called juveniles) the large corpse in their hatching fields attracts some dinosaurs and the apex predator a female Smok comes and scares the dinosaurs and eats some of the prosauropods but most manage to escape but some are killed by the dinosaurs. A couple years go and the little prosauropods have formed little creche's and are stuck together grazing in a gorge where several cynodonts growl at them menacingly and pterosaurs fly above hunting insects a desmatosuchus sleeping to the side and a Smok coming through the only entrance the prosauropods panic and run towards the Desmatosuchus which while waving its tail kills a prosauropod but also scares the Smok who is content to feast on the carcasses. Several scavenging dinosaurs come across the carrion after the smok is done with it and feast on its remains. The next day the prosauropods exit the gorge and go out to the not forest where a herd of placerias are grazing. The Placerias are eating stones and digging large holes in the ground where they are laying their eggs but small burolestes are sneaking in and laying their eggs in some of the holes to provide their young with a meal when they hatch, the Placerias are shown to live in mega herds as a very successful species with two males fighting over a part of the mega herd one loses and takes its anger out on the prosauropods and kills one and they retreat to the other side of the river. The dry season occurs and most dinosaurs and creatures are killed during a sand storm including all of the mega herd apart from two isolated pockets of only five individuals the survivors like some dinosaurs five of the remaining prosauropods, Smok and the cynodonts and the living desmatosuchus eat the carrion for extra nutrition.
The Smok starved but sane attacks a Desmatosuchus and has its right leg injured it then a few weeks later hunts the last Placerias in the area and has its second leg torn out and it lies there bleeding on the floor she is eaten by a flock of dinosaurs which sanely stay out of the way until it stops moving by the end of the dry season all of the remaining Placerias, phytosaurs, Smok's and Desmatosuchus are bones the dinosaurs and the two surviving prosauropods and cynodonts are the lucky ones that survived the disaster it ends with the prosauropods being revealed as Plateosaurus as a large sane herd of them come by the area to feast on the new plants as all the grazers were killed weeks ago.
Special Episode 8: The Old Doe
The episode begins in the Triassic showing a herd of lystrosaurus being hunted by a mysterious predator when a little lizard like creature hops onto the screen and scavenges from the corpses it then suddenly evolves into a mysterious dinosaur that evolves into a Lambeosaurus male walking through his swampy water home and returns to his home herd of parasaurolophus and Lambeosaurus and Styracosaurus, the Styracosaurus are lead by the strongest individual in this case an old doe with so many scars her skin is most red she steps away from her nest to sip water to instead discover blood dripping out from a re opened wound while she drinks three rowdy young males from a different herd come and challenge hers she attempts to subdue them and manages to accidentally kill one but thanks to there being two they manage to injure her so much she runs away being stalked by a pack of Daspletosaurus but she fends them off.
The old doe stumbles her way to another herd with an old buck as the leader who lets her into the herd she relaxes in the river and watches as a herd of Struthiomimus walk on the banks teaching their young how to swim if any danger is nearby. Back at the old herd a group of Dromaeosaurus feast on the old does eggs and hatchlings. A month passes by and mating season begins with the Parasaurolophus doing their peaceful displays, the Chasmosaurus flushing blood into their frills and the Pachyrhinosaurus ramming into each others heads. The Old Doe at her new herd takes care of her last batch of eggs and hatchlings with red frills from the Old Buck and watches as her old herd comes through with the two males being extremely scarred and weak from challenges by the other Styracosaurus and them foolishly attacking Centrosaurus herds for feeding grounds. The Old Buck holds his ground and manages to kill another one of the styracosaurus males the male runs away and stays in outskirts of the herd waiting for a weakness to exploit.
The breeding season concludes with a flash flood which kills the old Buck and half of the herd and many of the nearby creatures like the scavengers which are killed in the second flash flood. The herd manages to pull through and the Old Doe becomes the leader of the herd but the rowdy male challenges her band this time the doe wins and leaves him for the local Daspletosaurus who teach their young how to kill things. The Styracosaurus then has a mud bath and we conclude with Daspletosaurus evolving into a T Rex (65 MYA) which watches as a herd of Triceratops relax and their young play together in the same spot a bloodshed happened 10 million years before. The credits play off and it ends with how it began following a herd of edmontosaurus the same one from episode 1.
2023.06.02 16:15 smackooroos Every episode of family guy from seasons 1-8 ranked.
- From method to madness
- And the wiener is…
- Road to the multiverse
- Lois kills Stewie.
- Meet the quagmires.
- Brian wallows and Peter swallows.
- PTV
- 15 minutes of shame
- To love and die in dixie.
- Death lives.
- McStroke
- Blue harvest.
- Stewie loves Lois.
- Death is a bitch.
- Brian in love.
- When you wish upon a Weinstein.
- Road to Rhode Island.
- Untitled Griffin family history.
- Brian sings and swings
- Back to the woods.
- Stewie kills Lois.
- North to north Quahog
- Road to Rupert
- The man with two Brians.
- The courtship of Stewie's father
- Screwed the pooch.
- Fish out of water.
- Petergeist
- Chick cancer.
- Brian & Stewie.
- I dream of jesus.
- Petarded
- Patriot games
- Road to Europe.
- Tales of a third grade nothing.
- The Cleveland Lorretta quagmire
- Peter's daughter
- Something, something, something, dark side.
- Hell comes to Quahog.
- A very special family guy freakin' Christmas.
- Padre de Familia
- The thin white line.
- The fat guy strangler
- Mother Tucker
- Peter Griffin: husband, father… brother?
- Peter's two dads.
- Prick up your ears.
- Fox-y lady.
- Da boom.
- Hannah banana.
- Family gay.
- 420.
- Family guy viewer mail #1
- Stuck together or torn apart.
- Road to Germany
- Long john Peter
- The splendid source.
- Don't make me over.
- It takes a village idiot… and I married one.
- Saving private Brian
- Stewie & Stu's excellent adventure
- Breaking out is hard to do.
- Baby not on board.
- Barely legal.
- Believe it or not, Joe's walking on air.
- Sibling rivalry
- Peterotica
- Bango was his name oh!
- The tan aquatic with Steve Zissou.
- Model misbehavior
- Ocean's three and a half.
- Deep throats
- Stewie B Goode
- One if by clam, two if by sea.
- Fast times at buddy cianci jr high
- Brian: portrait of a dog
- Quagmire's baby.
- He's too sexy for his fat.
- Family goy.
- You May Now Kiss the... Uh... Guy Who Receives
- We love you, Conrad.
- Brian the bachelor
- Emission impossible.
- Jerome is the new black.
- I take thee, Quagmire
- A hero seats next door
- Partial terms of endearment.
- Brian goes back to college
- Peter's got Woods
- The father, the son, and the holy Fonz
- Go, Stewie, GO!
- Let's go to the hop.
- Brian does Hollywood.
- Fore, father.
- Mr. griffin goes to Washington.
- Not all dogs go to heaven.
- Dial meg for murder
- Mr. Saturday night
- No Chris left behind
- E. Peterbus Unum
- Big man on hippocampus.
- The former life of Brian.
- Lethal weapons.
- Brian's got a brand new bag
- Death has a shadow.
- Brian Griffin's house of pain.
- Spies reminiscent of us.
- Three kings.
- Peter's progress.
- April in Quahog.
- Business guy.
- Boys do cry.
- Extra large medium.
- Whistle while your wife works
- No meals on wheels.
- Airport 07'
- The perfect castaway
- Stew-roids.
- The story on page 1
- Quagmire's dad.
- Wasted talent.
- Ready, willing, and disabled.
- If I'm dyin', I'm lyin
- The kiss seen around the world.
- Blind ambition
- Jungle love
- Love, blactually.
- Bill & Peter's bogus journey
- Peter, peter, caviar eater
- Love thy trophy
- Damnit Janet
- A picture's worth a thousand bucks
- Play it again, Brian.
- 8 simple rules for buying my teenage daughter
- There's something about Paulie
- Chitty chitty death bang
- Mind over murder
- The juice is loose
- I never met the dead man
- Running mates
- The king is dead
- Holy crap
- The son also draws
- I am peter, hear me roar
- Movin' out (Brian's song)
- Peter-assment.
2023.06.02 16:09 RobertSKeene [The Primeval Apocalypse] - Chapter Seventy-Five (collaboration with u/hydrael)
![[The Primeval Apocalypse] - Chapter Seventy-Five (collaboration with u/hydrael)](https://b.thumbs.redditmedia.com/wDM898ZUt_J37ZX9SKHWh9erlQoLCkFoMftlnoh0u2o.jpg "[The Primeval Apocalypse] - Chapter Seventy-Five (collaboration with u/hydrael)") | submitted by RobertSKeene to redditserials [link] [comments] The Primeval Apocalypse by Robert Keene and Alex Raizman Start here (Prologue) Previous *** Author's Note: Promise made, promises kept. Two more chapters after today, and both of them are super fun. Looking forward to seeing y'alls response, especially to tomorrow's... *** Noaich shot down out of the trees, toothy maw agape. With the entelodont focused on me, it didn’t even realize he was coming until it was too late. Crocodile teeth modified by the Enrage and Howl abilities sank deep into the bristly hide and clamped down hard. My companion’s weight was far outmatched by the giant pig-monster, so there was no way to drag the beast into a death roll. But his firm grip and powerful jaws meant that he was inflicting damage. Not to mention that as long as I could keep attacking to keep Maul active on the monster, his damage was boosted by 20% thanks to Teamwork III. I had to keep on the offensive. With both of us together, our damage could outweigh the monster’s regeneration. But I couldn’t let up or else we were finished. The entelodont briefly tried to turn to address the new foe clinging to its back, and I lunged in to remind it who the real enemy was. With the high attack speed from my new axe, I hacked away at the side of its face, leaving three deep cuts before it could return its attention to me. It tried to swat me away with a claw, but I was able to parry the blow with the edge of my weapon, leaving a cut along the inside of its hand-like paw as I deflected the attack. The monster whirled its full attention back to me at that, lunging for a bite and forcing me back, but while Noaich was too small to outmuscle the entelodont, his weight was enough to slow it down. I was able to dart around and carve another deep wound up the creature’s jaw before three more strikes at the shoulder, working my way down and damaging its upper arm muscles as I went. With the way the system handled damage, it didn’t immobilize the creature on that side, but as blood poured down the limb, its next step slipped as it tried to turn to follow me. The slip opened it up and I focused my efforts on its side, continuing down to chop away at its flank as fast as I could. With all the buffs on me, the thick hide was barely an impediment now. What mattered to me in the long term, though, was seeing the effect of Teamwork IV. Noaich’s continuous gnawing grip on the monster’s back meant that he was reducing the enemy’s parry and dodge checks against my attacks, and my attacks were doing the same for Noaich. Class Achievement: Perfect Teamwork: Take advantage of Teamwork IV 10 times (lifetime). The non-debuff detrimental effects from Teamwork IV stack up to 1 additional time. I didn’t expect Teamwork IV to have a big impact on this fight. The entelodont’s defensive strategy was its tough hide and potent regeneration. But with Noiach dealing continuous damage, I could feel the effect of the boosted effect immediately. Apparently dodge and parry checks also governed how well it could absorb the impact with movements. My strikes were landing more squarely and my axe was cutting in deeper and deeper. Obviously, the more we could keep it going, the stronger that achievement would become. And the way to do that was to swing away. Hard and fast. With my new axe’s attack speed at full power, I ran circles around the entelodont, slicing almost blindly at it as it tried to keep up with my movements. Maul was still active, so blood gushed from every wound, staining its hide and filling the air as it kicked and thrashed. I was speckled with it now, and the ground around us was growing muddy and slick. Claws slashed out at me, but the blood loss was slowing it down. Either that, or the exertion of spinning in place with a giant reptile clinging to it was draining its Stamina bar dry. Meanwhile, my new On The Prowl ability was still keeping my own Stamina stable, slowing its drain enough that I was still fresh and ready to keep on fighting. “I expected more from you,” I grunted as I darted out to avoid a swiping claw, and then back in to deliver four quick slashes in return. “Especially after you whooped my butt last time.” Kill you, the beast snarled. Despite all the fatigue and damage, its rage was still overwhelming all other concerns. Kill you kill you kill you. “One level goes a long way,” I said, more to myself and Noaich than to the mindlessly enraged pig-monster. “No wonder the system spawns scary stuff for higher level people. Leveling up one time turns deadly threats into fair fights.” Noaich was trying to respond to me, but with his jaws clamped down and his body being shaken around by the entelodont’s thrashing, he couldn’t communicate effectively. And the last thing I wanted was for him to let go. The damage he was applying was keeping the beast’s regeneration in check perfectly. The wounds I was opening across its side were barely healing at all. The entelodont was getting weaker as the fight continued. And as I kept hacking away, and Noaich kept chomping down, we were getting stronger. Perfect Teamwork II: Take advantage of Teamwork IV 25 times (lifetime). The non-debuff detrimental effects from Teamwork IV stack up to 2 additional times. Sic ‘Em II: Deal 2,500 damage with your pet (lifetime). All pet damage is increased by 5%. The creature’s strength was flagging now. Its slowed movements meant that I circled all the way around from its right side to its hindquarters. It tried to surprise me by turning left instead of right, but it was so slow now, chopping away at its back legs as I danced well ahead of its movements. The entelodont finally stopped trying to attack me, apparently realizing that it was hopeless so long as Noaich was ripping up its back and keeping its regeneration from helping. It sagged down and dropped to one side to try and roll over and crush my companion. That forced Noaich to let go and scramble away, but he held on until the entelodont fully committed to the roll. With the beast on its back, it was vulnerable. So I struck. I leaped up onto the monster’s belly and ran straight up its body to its head. My tremendously boosted attack speed let me carve huge gaping wounds up its exposed underbelly, where its hide was almost as thin as my own skin instead of a thick layer of armor. “Remember that you picked this fight,” I snapped as the beast struggled to try and roll back over onto its legs. “It didn’t have to be like this. But—” Its front claws slashed out at me, trying to protect its most vulnerable spot, but It was too worn down. Too sluggish. Too wounded. Too slow. I deftly leaped over the swiping claws, and as I came down I drove both axes directly into the monster’s throat side-by-side, and ripped straight out, tearing the throat open up both sides. The opened throat dumped blood out on me in a disgusting fountain. As it coated the monster’s head, my position on it slipped, sending me to the ground right in front of its face. For a brief moment I thought I was toast. I was unprepared to slip, and I was in the perfect position to get chomped to death. But as I landed, I looked into the entelodont’s eyes as they glazed over in death. I heaved out a huge sigh of relief. The Big One was down. We’d won. And more than just the entelodont, too. The queen of this town was gone, along with a large chunk of her forces. And whoever stepped up to take her place was denied the huge stockpiles of hypnotic herbs that had enabled their cavalry. What little they had in their outlying camps wouldn’t be enough to support a large enough attack against Rachel’s camp to threaten her and her people—especially not with how many experience points and class achievements they’d no doubt racked up during this fight, like I had. Even from here, behind some buildings—and wreckage that used to be buildings—my Beast Hunter ability let me see Rachel and her team mopping up the last of the Mandrill guards. The field of dead around them was a gorey mess, but with their tight formation and great buff support from their leader, not a single human had fallen. “Damn,” I cursed as I scanned the battlefield, and then extended my attention to the whole town. I held myself still for a few seconds to double my range. “Damn, damn, damn.” What’s wrong? Noaich asked. “You know how you told me not to let that Mandrill go?” I asked. “And how you kept saying that was a bad idea?” Yes, he said with a motion like a nod. “I don’t sense the alpha anywhere,” I said with a grimace. “I didn’t want to let him go. Especially not after he punted you through a wall.” Didn’t punt me through a wall, Noaich said, shaking himself indignantly. Sensed the danger and escaped at speed. Knew you had it under control. “Yeah, well, it looks like he followed your example.” I gestured for us to move, and started at a light jog to go rejoin Rachel as they were finishing their part of the fight. “He’s gone for now. I bet we haven’t seen the last of him.” |
2023.06.02 16:04 MiraiKe1 Carnivore Diet first week - left chest pain and left arm muscle spasm after each meal on day 4
Like the title says, I just started the diet not too long ago. Initially started my first three days on just beef, salt and water, hoping to do lion instead, but decided to switch to carnivore since I prefer to have more meat variety.
On day 4 of the diet, I noticed that after each meal, I get this weird pain on my left chest (around the pectoral) and back left back shoulder blade. The pain instead isn’t that intense, like a 3/10. Feels like soreness after hitting the gym the first time in months. Small spasms on the left arm muscle. Also get a bit hot. All of the symptoms disappear with time.
I went to the hospital to have it checked. Had a BIA done, chest x-rayed and my blood tested for cholesterol and insulin. Everything seems to be normal and the doctor didn’t find any abnormalities. He thinks it could just be a muscle related issues. But it still doesn’t explain why I get these symptoms after each meal.
Just want to figure out what is happening and what I can do. Could it be that my electrolyte levels are messed up because I over salt my meat? Or am I missing nutrients? For context, I haven’t been adding butter or tallow yet to my meals. I drink plenty of water as well.
Like many others here, I started the carnivore diet in hopes get my body work work as it is intended; to get my anxiety and stress level under control, improve concentration and regain mental clarity all while losing weight. Not sure if it will help with some of my adhd symptoms, but needless to say, I’m hyped about getting better. I honestly don’t want to give up on this diet yet.
Anyways, any tips could help. Thanks in advance!
submitted by MiraiKe1 to carnivorediet [link] [comments]
On day 4 of the diet, I noticed that after each meal, I get this weird pain on my left chest (around the pectoral) and back left back shoulder blade. The pain instead isn’t that intense, like a 3/10. Feels like soreness after hitting the gym the first time in months. Small spasms on the left arm muscle. Also get a bit hot. All of the symptoms disappear with time.
I went to the hospital to have it checked. Had a BIA done, chest x-rayed and my blood tested for cholesterol and insulin. Everything seems to be normal and the doctor didn’t find any abnormalities. He thinks it could just be a muscle related issues. But it still doesn’t explain why I get these symptoms after each meal.
Just want to figure out what is happening and what I can do. Could it be that my electrolyte levels are messed up because I over salt my meat? Or am I missing nutrients? For context, I haven’t been adding butter or tallow yet to my meals. I drink plenty of water as well.
Like many others here, I started the carnivore diet in hopes get my body work work as it is intended; to get my anxiety and stress level under control, improve concentration and regain mental clarity all while losing weight. Not sure if it will help with some of my adhd symptoms, but needless to say, I’m hyped about getting better. I honestly don’t want to give up on this diet yet.
Anyways, any tips could help. Thanks in advance!
2023.06.02 15:46 gloriouspysen I guess I just wanted someone to know…
I don't know how much more I can take; I'm completely drained of everything. I have so little left, nothing to look forward to, nothing that ignites happiness within me. I hate myself for it; I used to make people laugh, I used to be full of energy and joy, but none of that remains. It's somewhere far away, and I don't know if I'll ever find it. I feel trapped in a foreign body that isn't mine; I no longer know who I am.
Ever since my ex and I broke up, everything has gone downhill. Everyone says there will be someone new or that the first love never works out, and I guess they're right, and I try to convince myself they're right. But deep in the back of my mind, I know I'll never be able to love anyone like I loved her. She was everything to me, so beautiful, so smart, and caring. She was perfect; she is perfect. However, she's no longer mine, and it hurts so much. I'm not the person she calls when she needs someone to talk to; I'm not the person she hugs and kisses anymore. I am forgotten.
I don't know if I'll ever recover from this; I don't know if I'll ever be able to love anyone again. All my dreams and goals have faded away. I no longer do things because they bring me joy; I do them because if I don't, I fall apart, I fall into a trance I can't escape. I just sit and contemplate; I cry until I fall asleep. I become nothing but an empty shell of the person I used to be.
I've bought a jar of very strong sleeping pills and recorded videos for all my friends and family. They're stored on a USB stick, along with my sleeping pills, in my "kit." I'm waiting for a moment when I'm not needed by anyone, when there's nothing planned that would be ruined by my disappearance.
I don't know why I'm writing this; maybe it's because I hope someone will say something that makes me reconsider, or maybe it's just because I want someone else to know, that I told someone.
Thank you for reading.
submitted by gloriouspysen to offmychest [link] [comments]
Ever since my ex and I broke up, everything has gone downhill. Everyone says there will be someone new or that the first love never works out, and I guess they're right, and I try to convince myself they're right. But deep in the back of my mind, I know I'll never be able to love anyone like I loved her. She was everything to me, so beautiful, so smart, and caring. She was perfect; she is perfect. However, she's no longer mine, and it hurts so much. I'm not the person she calls when she needs someone to talk to; I'm not the person she hugs and kisses anymore. I am forgotten.
I don't know if I'll ever recover from this; I don't know if I'll ever be able to love anyone again. All my dreams and goals have faded away. I no longer do things because they bring me joy; I do them because if I don't, I fall apart, I fall into a trance I can't escape. I just sit and contemplate; I cry until I fall asleep. I become nothing but an empty shell of the person I used to be.
I've bought a jar of very strong sleeping pills and recorded videos for all my friends and family. They're stored on a USB stick, along with my sleeping pills, in my "kit." I'm waiting for a moment when I'm not needed by anyone, when there's nothing planned that would be ruined by my disappearance.
I don't know why I'm writing this; maybe it's because I hope someone will say something that makes me reconsider, or maybe it's just because I want someone else to know, that I told someone.
Thank you for reading.
2023.06.02 15:43 Haen33 My husband's snoring is breaking me. I can't do this anymore.
My husband snores. Bad. I describe it as "yell-snoring". It last from 10 minutes after he lays down, to when he wakes at 7am. It never stops.
I have been sleeping on the couch for almost a year now. And even from the couch in a different room, I cannot escape the snoring.
I've tried everything. I bought him breath strips, nose vents (two different kinds, a humidifier, a damned chin strap. I've worn earplugs so much, that now I have pain in my ears and I can't wear them anymore.
Finally he went to the doctor. He was told he has a deviated septum.
And insurance won't cover fixing it because it's "purely aesthetic".
I'm currently having a mental breakdown. My body hurts so badly, and has for months. I'm so sleep deprived. Just today, I've been up since 3AM.
The sleep deprivation and physical pain is so bad, that I'm having really bad ideations.
I'm considering dropping out of college for the field I'm in, because in my field, I will NEED sleep when I can get it. And I won't be able to. Just making it through classes without dozing off is hard enough.
It's ruining me. Its affecting me psychologically.
I cant do this anymore.
submitted by Haen33 to snoring [link] [comments]
I have been sleeping on the couch for almost a year now. And even from the couch in a different room, I cannot escape the snoring.
I've tried everything. I bought him breath strips, nose vents (two different kinds, a humidifier, a damned chin strap. I've worn earplugs so much, that now I have pain in my ears and I can't wear them anymore.
Finally he went to the doctor. He was told he has a deviated septum.
And insurance won't cover fixing it because it's "purely aesthetic".
I'm currently having a mental breakdown. My body hurts so badly, and has for months. I'm so sleep deprived. Just today, I've been up since 3AM.
The sleep deprivation and physical pain is so bad, that I'm having really bad ideations.
I'm considering dropping out of college for the field I'm in, because in my field, I will NEED sleep when I can get it. And I won't be able to. Just making it through classes without dozing off is hard enough.
It's ruining me. Its affecting me psychologically.
I cant do this anymore.
2023.06.02 15:37 xbriannova Virtual Reality as Alternative to Normal Exercises
I tried using virtual reality as a form of exercise when I busted my ankle. It was an experiment, and I didn't think that it would go beyond that. After all, how many calories can you really burn playing video games?
Little did I know that the first day I strapped that headset to my face was the day I fell into the VR rabbit hole, and on that day my journey into a very different way to lose weight and keep fit had begun.
I started out 2023 desperate to lose weight. In 2022, my weight topped out at 95kg and I'm only 1.73m tall. Training for a 10km run and a military fitness tested bumped it down to 90kg, but it soon rose to 92.5kg during December, which was the designated pleasure month for me as I'd gone overseas for a vacation, first time in 5 years I think as the Covid-19 situation prevented me from having one.
I bought VR in the middle of January. I played around with it and burned little calories as I didn't see it as a fitness device at first, but even then, I saw the potential in it as it got me off my chair and move a little, which is good for your health. During this time, I was still training for my military fitness test and I was trekking to lose weight.
Fast forward to the 1st of February, it all came crashing down when I injured my ankle during the military fitness test - surprisingly, I passed. I could barely walk at that time and I had to drag my bum leg around to get to work. That was when I was forced to improvise as I knew that putting off my weight loss plans will destroy my health.
Anyway, here's the results of it, in table format:
Analysis: I walk a lot while commuting to work since I'm a freelancer and I have a lot of clients to attend to. This alone reduces weight gain from food greatly, but the reason I gained weight in the past was because it simply isn't enough in the long term.
I believe what happened was that VR tipped the scales. VR results in me walking way more per day compared to the past, even though the job's the same. I had to walk to and fro from the venue, I had to stand and turn and take steps even if I'm not at my usual VR arena. And when I'm doing VR workouts at my arena? It'd be thousands of steps, easily. Recently, my VR headset required maintenance and that resulted in me commuting all over the place like a busy little bee.
Basically, what calories I burned during VR were what's left of the calories I took in, and then some, resulting in weight loss. At the same time, it amplified my walking to the point where just the walking alone could potentially burn off all the calories I took in. It makes sense, considering how paltry my stats are last year:
My 10km training started in September, I believe.
Conclusion: VR works. The best part? It's fun at the same time so motivation is covered. I've basically turned my gaming passion into a fitness activity. However, it depends on the games you play. A lot of them don't burn much since they're not physically intensive, but even they will make you stand (assuming you want to), and the movement you make with your body can net you 1-2kcal/min.
Some of the more casual but physical ones, such as Space Pirate Trainer and Superhot, and burn 3-4kcal/min, which was what I started out with. The main calories burner I used is Blade and Sorcery, which also doubles as martial arts training, and it burned me 5-7kcal/min, even topping out at 8kcal/min sometimes. Other calories burners I play would be boxing games, which performed similarly.
There's also rhythm games such as Beatsaber, Pistol Whip and such that allows you to exercise while stationary, some of which could even work you at 10kcal/min! However, those aren't my thing so I don't really play them much.
I hope this helps you guys. I'm hoping to lose at least 1kg every month, so by the end of this year, with this monthly goal, I might be looking at being 78kg, which was my weight when I was 18! (I'm 34 this year)
submitted by xbriannova to WeightLossAdvice [link] [comments]
Little did I know that the first day I strapped that headset to my face was the day I fell into the VR rabbit hole, and on that day my journey into a very different way to lose weight and keep fit had begun.
I started out 2023 desperate to lose weight. In 2022, my weight topped out at 95kg and I'm only 1.73m tall. Training for a 10km run and a military fitness tested bumped it down to 90kg, but it soon rose to 92.5kg during December, which was the designated pleasure month for me as I'd gone overseas for a vacation, first time in 5 years I think as the Covid-19 situation prevented me from having one.
I bought VR in the middle of January. I played around with it and burned little calories as I didn't see it as a fitness device at first, but even then, I saw the potential in it as it got me off my chair and move a little, which is good for your health. During this time, I was still training for my military fitness test and I was trekking to lose weight.
Fast forward to the 1st of February, it all came crashing down when I injured my ankle during the military fitness test - surprisingly, I passed. I could barely walk at that time and I had to drag my bum leg around to get to work. That was when I was forced to improvise as I knew that putting off my weight loss plans will destroy my health.
Anyway, here's the results of it, in table format:
- Steps taken includes steps taken during VR
- Steps taken includes any exercises, steps taken while commuting or doing anything
- February weight wasn't taken because I stopped measuring my weight out of fear of seeing it
- My diet isn't modified much. I just ate less snacks.
| Month (2023) | Steps Taken / Calories Burned Walking | Calories Burned During VR | Weight by End of Month |
|---|---|---|---|
| January | 428,871 / 22,246kcal | 2,151kcal | 93.7kg |
| February | 345,332 / 18,049kcal | 8,128kcal | Not Recorded |
| March | 452,449 / 24,026kcal | 17,646kcal | 88.2kg |
| April | 398,142 / 20,328kcal | 13,601kcal | 86.3kg |
| May | 407,180 / 20,806kcal | 11,042kcal | 85kg |
I believe what happened was that VR tipped the scales. VR results in me walking way more per day compared to the past, even though the job's the same. I had to walk to and fro from the venue, I had to stand and turn and take steps even if I'm not at my usual VR arena. And when I'm doing VR workouts at my arena? It'd be thousands of steps, easily. Recently, my VR headset required maintenance and that resulted in me commuting all over the place like a busy little bee.
Basically, what calories I burned during VR were what's left of the calories I took in, and then some, resulting in weight loss. At the same time, it amplified my walking to the point where just the walking alone could potentially burn off all the calories I took in. It makes sense, considering how paltry my stats are last year:
My 10km training started in September, I believe.
| Month (2022) | Steps Taken | Calories Burned from Running/Walking |
|---|---|---|
| January | 236,815 | 12,513kcal |
| February | 278,114 | 15,838kcal |
| March | 230,177 | 11,672kcal |
| April | 272,235 | 13,792kcal |
| May | 268,419 | 13,651kcal |
| June | 232,812 | 11,793kcal |
| July | 207,238 | 10,560kcal |
| August | 270,756 | 13,773kcal |
| September | 323,489 | 16,769kcal |
| October | 374,036 | 19,761kcal |
| November | 256,556 | 13,449kcal |
| December | 213,634 | 11,504kcal |
Some of the more casual but physical ones, such as Space Pirate Trainer and Superhot, and burn 3-4kcal/min, which was what I started out with. The main calories burner I used is Blade and Sorcery, which also doubles as martial arts training, and it burned me 5-7kcal/min, even topping out at 8kcal/min sometimes. Other calories burners I play would be boxing games, which performed similarly.
There's also rhythm games such as Beatsaber, Pistol Whip and such that allows you to exercise while stationary, some of which could even work you at 10kcal/min! However, those aren't my thing so I don't really play them much.
I hope this helps you guys. I'm hoping to lose at least 1kg every month, so by the end of this year, with this monthly goal, I might be looking at being 78kg, which was my weight when I was 18! (I'm 34 this year)