okay this is Such a shot in the dark but i Really hope someone can help, a few years ago i saw a gif of a game’s color change menu and its stuck with me ever since. the different color choices had names like your eyes, my eyes, your touch, my touch, my smile, your smile, etc etc (not the exact words i can’t remember those..) together all the color options almost made like. a poem of sorts .. it was just really beautiful to see and i want to see it again
additional info that might help: im like 70% sure it was a ps1 game or some other console of that gen. it also might’ve been a mech game ?? i dont actually know for certain but it’s always been linked to mecha somehow in my head .. the menus where pretty simplistic as well, they were basically brown/orangey boxes with thin lines and white pixel text against a black background (think metal gear solid menus, that sorta style)
UPDATE I MADE A GIF OF IT i thought that would better explain it .. it looked Much better than this ofc but i wanted to get the basic idea down
https://i.redd.it/orr0iy89083d1.gif

To whom it may concern,
I will be supplying here the ultimate list of bugs, grievances, and complaints from Fortnite: Chapter 5, Season 2. There is no particular order.
My Personal Grievances:

1. A player can get stuck in a vehicle permanently, even after being knocked. Reboot is required to fix.
   
2. A player can have infinite stamina drain, preventing all actions that require stamina. Reboot is required to fix.
   
3. Stamina bar depletes during a sprint jump regardless of the origin of the momentum (shockwave, Hermes' speed, flowberry, or any applicable combination of the three). This defies the laws of physics; it is unnecessary stamina drain and makes the entire stamina system nonsensical. The bonus speed achieved by momentum has nothing to do with the character's physical exertion of energy whatsoever.
   
4. Humoring a fraction of the community to bring back a broken stamina system from an outdated season and chapter. The stamina and movement system was just fine near the middle of C5S1 when Epic delivered on fixing the atrocious movement it made upon release. Once it was fixed, it was ruined it shortly after by reverting to Chapter 4's completely busted stamina system.
   
5. The first nerf to the Reaper Sniper Rifle was enough. Epic humored a small portion of the community again and now the Reaper fails to be a sniper rifle by definition. It can be better used as a one-shot slug shotgun than a long-range option. Anyone who noticed its removal from long-distance combat uses the Hand Cannon or the Huntress DMR more reliably than the Reaper.
   
6. The Frenzy Auto Shotgun nerf was too harsh. It became a pea shooter. The Gatekeeper far suprassed all other shotgun options so heavily that it became the only viable option.
   
7. The Chain, The Wookie Bowcaster, and Zues' Thunderbolts all seem to function properly on PC exclusively. The chain indeed does do area of effect damage, I tested it. It does not apply against a player when the wielder is on console; yet, the chain does a sweeping AoE when damaging structures. The Bowcaster had an overly large splash damage area, only achievable on PC, on console, such AoE did not exist to that extent. Zues' Thunderbolt does more damage on PC than it does on console. I have a theory for that, which I believe is fact, this leads to my next grievance.
   
8. Cheaters on PC can revert Epic's balancing adjustments without the anti-cheat software even catching it. Post Frenzy range nerf I have been dropped in two shots from over 20m away multiple times by someone using this unknown hack. Then, I started noticing players one-shot me with Reapers from 240+ meters away in a split second post nerf (second). This promotes the concept that the cheaters can revert nerfs even to a previous season's standards. Those were all quickscopes (no time to measure a shot AT ALL) with C5S1 bullet drop for the Reaper. Yes, they had glints, meaning they had 4x scopes and I dropped dead before a glint even appeared on the screen.
   
9. Why remove the ability for a glint to appear if an angled foregrip is in use. Since a player can ADS faster the game is failing to animate a glint. This makes no sense. The split second it takes for the code to register a glint based on the stock glint speed for the Reaper matters. The Huntress DMR gets to ADS faster and the glint arrives sooner, but that weapon as well suffers from the same inconvenience. The Angled Foregrip attachment causes the bug.
   
10. This one is a brand new bug. When in-game only, my R2 button tabs over twice to the right instead of just once. This applies to all controllers, all benches, and all emotes too. Therefore, it has nothing to do with controllers, emote wheels, or benches. The issue has to do with an error in the coding IN-GAME. This does not happen in the lobby.
    
11. The Locker UI is vile, horrendous, atrocious, disgusting, repugnant, scummy and lazy. I loathe it's existence entirely and in multiple ways. I now struggle to find my hard-earned items because they are universally without rarity whatsoever. Before that atrocious change, rarities had no color coordination to make my search easier for my items; yet, they maintained their locations in the locker. Now I cannot find anything. If I knew the image of a skin but not its name or its season or chapter, at least I could guess its rarity... That's gone too. Thank you for making my life on your game HARDER. These are the OPPOSITE of QOL updates. The opposite.
    
12. Removing rarities because that deserves to be separated from the Locker UI complaint. Rarities once restrained Epic from corporate greed and, I will say it, price gauging. This could be a criminal offense. The Avatar skins, and others like it, could be criminal offenses. There are perhaps blurred lines here. They were not legendary and Epic just had to charge legendary prices for them. Why?
    
13. The graphics and visual fidelity from this season pale in comparison to Chapter 4. Chapter 5 brought many QOL changes at first, but now it seems to be slipping away into a place it cannot return from. Epic has the means do better and I believe since we FUND the game, Epic is morally obligated to BE BETTER. In terms of gameplay, Chaper 5 is 100% an upgrade from Chapter 4. Visuals, however, are lacking. Even LEGO Fornite looks better than Battle Royale.
    
14. Waterbending. Nuff said.
    
15. Failure to properly manage events Part I. The Avatar: The Last Airbender event was a welcome surprise and even then, with such a great IP, Epic failed to deliver. Firebending was so terrible it really became a three-element event. The only scroll with a passive ability was the Water Scroll. Earthbending was a failed opportunity to be creative with the armor + weapon concept. Airbending was the best movement ever released in the game, period. All scrolls should have left the game upon the event's conclusion! WHY DID EPIC KEEP WATERBENDING IN THE GAME FOR SO LONG! It removed the life of the game completely! It was not FUN at all. Getting a win became a chore!
    
16. Failure to properly manage events Part II. Star Wars day is a time in Fortnite festivities I used to look forward to since Fortnite first introduced it. Each year the event had been a success. Not this time. The Wookie Bowcaster was a flop. There was only one lightsaber. Epic chose to bring back a weapon incapable of dropping someone unless the person shooting it is using Zen... The E-11. Epic should have chose to bring back the DC-15. I could care lese about canonical importance! I can play as Omni man with Goku's Power Pole and Waterbend Darth Vader to the point of defeat to then wield a supbar pathetic example of a light saber. Maybe, if Epic managed IPs properly instead of just for greed, this light saber could counter the Chain of Hades. Each color of a lightsaber has its own power. If Epic wanted to keep Waterbending during a Star Wars event, maybe let us counter that atrocity with force powers buffed to the extent that there is NO SHOOTING while being force pushed or force pulled. Epic had the potential to conclude the season in a very fun way; this opportunity was squandered.
    
17. Lack of event related skins and accessories. We all know Sokka should have made it. We all know each skin from Avatar: The Last Airbender should have had a selectable style that represents Book 3 of the show we fans love. Even then, Zuko should have had his villain style (topknot) and his raid gear (Book 1 finale) style and Katara should have had a Painted Lady style. Epic, charged 2,000 V-Bucks PER CHARACTER and failed to put EACH in a bundle. We at least deserve some creative skins from the most iconic scenes in the show. Where is Azula! The opportunity to, "Shut up and take my money" in a way where no one would complain about it is out the window. Gone forever. R.I.P. As for Star Wars Day, each item shop skin for that IP should drop every Star Wars Day (week/event) along with new skins each year. No need to clutter the item shop with so many options at once. If the event returns, each day of the event should feature returning item shop skins from that IP.
    
18. Lack of creativity. Epic has concept artists design skins then proceeds to make absolutely atrocious decisions with the in-game render. Where are Greek plumes? Why did Epic remove the name Athena and name her Odyssey instead? Odyssey happens to be the name of an epic poem for Greek Mythology, featuring Odysseus, who is a male. Each concept art design is far superior to the in-game adaptation and are far superior. This is lazy, absolutely lazy. More effort was put into the drawings by the artists than Epic put into the 3-D render. Most skins did not make it to the Battle Pass nor the Item Shop. I would have bought a Minotaur skin. I would have bought a Spartan skin (not Spartan Assassin). I would have bought younger Kratos. Instead of humoring the fan-base Epic delivered new Item Shop skins (rarely) that had NOTHING to do with the theme of the season. This was a failed opportunity to bring out amazing designs based on both history and mythology. At least we got Socrates Peely... Amazing 10/10. That's creative, lucrative, and a reference to one of the founders of Philosophy. It is accurately designed as well, he is dressed in blue which means he hails from Athens.
    

19: For God's sake, I cannot stress this one enough. The reload glitch. It has been in the game since Chapter 3! What happened here!? I have died over 50 times because my fully reloaded gun has to magically reload when I switch to it. I have video proof that my magazine was not empty either. It was so bad that even when I sprinted to cancel the reload, since it showed a mostly full clip in my Frenzy, it still forced the reload!

1. Another glitch regarding ammunition. Every time a player picks up a weapon with a drum mag, said player must reload the weapon to get a full mag. This applies universally, even to weapons with built in drum mags like the drum gun, even if the weapon was not fired by another player. But wait there's more.
   
2. Every time a player drops a fully loaded drum mag weapon, it must be reloaded when picked up. By another player or by the original player. Does not matter. This is extremely tedious. No loss of bullets occur which implies Epic is fully aware of the bug but refuses to fix it, at least we players keep the ammo. The bullets indeed magically appear back in the player's inventory. We will NOT accept this as a fix.
   
3. The XP rewards are becoming less and less each season while it feels as if the XP requirement for Level 200 increases more and more each season. As a company, Epic cannot humor the hardcore player base alone in terms of time spent gaming. Epic also cannot humor casual players that may intend to cheese 100 or 200 levels within a week. There is common ground that must be had here because I, myself, a hardcore player, definitely do NOT want to play other games that are NOT BR to complete my BR Battle Pass. Please do not force this. Neither casual nor hardcore wants to play your A: Rip off and B: Pathetic examples of videogames just to level up in what made Fortnite famous to begin with. I am not opposed to having these modes that are indeed cheap knock-offs, I am opposed to being forced to play them for XP for my -Battle Royale<--- Battle Pass. Disclaimer: Perhaps Rocket Racing is original, even then those lines are blurred.
   
4. It took too long to fix the "High/Very High Complexity Area" bug in LEGO Fortnite. I once loved to play and wanted to keep playing with the ideas I had. But no, Epic did not move fast enough. Now, Epic just scrapped the potential of the mode entirely and demands money for things that should be -Free Content<--- updates and proceeds to overprice them as well. I have been robbed of my child-like desire to play, to build, and to be creative in what could have been a respectable competitor to Minecraft because of Epic's laziness. This bug deserved an IMMEDIATE FIX. It took MONTHS. The fire, the passion, my will to play it... all gone. From dust that gamemode came and to dust that gamemode returns.
   

Unless spontaneous events are added, as seen in Terraria, there is ZERO reason for me to play. Please create more enemies and more rarities. Bring sunbeam into the mix, or what about Rainbow Crystals and Spectralite... Moonstone! The sky is the limit and again, Epic fails to achieve it. Bring back Honey! Another dead concept for Epic. Revive those items from Save the World in LEGO Fortnite and I just might be enticed to play again.
24: Vehicles can magically fall under the map, thus disappearing from the player's sight. Or perhaps the vehicle just disappears entirely.

1. Epic refuses to IP ban hackers because they make up 30% of the community as a whole and FAR MORE in the competitive community (Ranked/Cups). Zen and StrikePacks are now so advanced that they each must bypass Epic's supposed anti-cheat software, if there even is one. I have witnessed very OBVIOUS and full blown aimbot from so many sources that I personally doubt anti-cheat software even exists... Therefore what is there to bypass? I remember the days when a Banhammer would occur. A grimy little cheater was instantly removed from the game with a strike of lightning so powerful it was heard across the map. The account was then banned according to a Epic's severity of punishment.
   
2. A player has higher chances of being banned for saying one curse word, even jokingly (Violation of human rights) than actively hacking (violation of IP rights).
   
3. Confrontational emotes. I understand why this is, yet when money is involved, such a change is not ethical to make. If a player purchases an emote, and part of that purchase is EVERYONE can see it, Epic cannot change the fact it should be seen universally. That violates the purpose of the purchase and someone's pocket far more than either of those emotes could EVER alter someone's mood. It is not Epic's responsibility that people get angry at a donkey laughing or someone dancing with Take the L. I cannot even comprehend what is offensive or confrontational about the banana version of Make it Rain. It does not make sense, whatsoever.
   
4. Spectating, for some reason, is broken. It is not possible to switch players. I play with a large community of routine players from a Discord server I run alongside trusted routine players. Spectating in a lobby with six players or more has become tradition, especially on the weekends. Having this bug in the game hinders our joy of watching other members play the game, and even helping them win with advice.
   
5. The minimap player markers disappear and the color coding bugs out showing multiple colors of one type on the HUD.
   
6. The boss battle music persists regardless of muting the music volume in settings.
   
7. The engines are so ridiculously loud, especially Beskar, and are part of the Sound Effects bar. Please allow us to alter this specific volume in its own bar separate from Sound Effects.
   
8. This is my final grievance. All these bugs in a game from a developer and producer with hundreds of billions of dollars mostly earned from Fortnite (the community of players). Instead of reinvesting the money where it belongs, such as patchwork, content (new original skins, battle passes, maps, etc.), and graphics, Epic uses this money for what seems to be nothing pertaining to the betterment of Battle Royale and everything that pertains to a money grab.
   

A reflection: How many of these bugs, most of which are game breaking, will Epic fix? Will the Locker UI ever be restored to it's former glory (as per community demand)? Most of these balancing issues will resolve themselves because they will simply no longer apply, not because Epic went out of its way to make things right (such as Waterbending). If I have to deal with EITHER of these bugs again this season my excitement will just be robbed from me.
PS: Epic please... If this catches your attention in any way, I must share one sentence, "Purpose brings profit." - Alex Edmans
For the love of God, treat us like gamers (people) not statistics or profit. We are indeed Epic's primary investors afterall. I personally believe Epic has lost or is starting to lose its purpose with Fortnite: Battle Royale
Thank you for reading and God bless you all,
Chonk_Lord48
Source: The social responsibility of business, Alex Edmans

First off, big thanks to the dozen or so users who sent me this book through PDF files or Google document links. Seriously, I got maybe a dozen messages, so thanks!
Written in 2002 with the help of journalists Kristie McLellan, this is a truly wild book that is honestly a mess to read. It's structure was fucked up, it jumped around with no focus and just featured Diana shading literally everyone.
As always, I kept this as much in chronological order as possible, hope y'all enjoy.
In the first paragraph of the book, she says Davey Boy Smith was doping her drinks so he could r*pe her every night. She said she never should have married him.
Diana had a massive crush on Dynamite Kid when he first came to Calgary, but describes him as a sadistic masochistic psychopath who did so much steroids that he developed gross boils all over his body. She remembers that he would literally cut the boils off with a razor blade, saying how he hates to squeeze them but also hated to look at them.
"Smith is quite warped, but he's not a pervert." This is the first thing Diana says about her oldest brother Smith.
Diana says that Smith once ran over a bird and, not wanting to "waste anything," he took the creature home, cooked it, and served it to his family for dinner. Everyone put their forks down when Owen Hart told them where their meal came from and Diana says that Smith was hurt that no one wanted to eat his road kill.
Diana talks about Smith knocking up someone named Marla that their dad would refer to as an "arena tramp." Smith hid the pregnancy from his parents until they spotted Smith with the 8 month pregnant girl. Diana says that because the mother Marla was known to sleep around, Stu refused to acknowledge the baby girl as a Hart. Diana says the girl grew up nice enough but the Hart's really have nothing to do with her.
Diana doesn't expand much on the mother, but Bret did say in his book that the first person Smith knocked up was an ex girlfriend of Bret's. This would be the first of many times in this book where Diana casually mentions an adult knocking up a teenage girl.
Diana says Smith would have a couple more children out of wedlock. Bret says the number of kids Smith truly had is a mystery. One of the girls he knocked up was a 15 year old who later became a prostitute and gave the child up for adoption. The girl would later die, wether it was suicide or overdose is anyone's guess.
Diana says that Stu made it clear that she and Owen were his favorite children. Good grief. All the Hart kids suffer from this "Stu loved me more than the rest" ideology.
Diana describes how a 14 year old Bret would fight with his 15 year old sister, leaving bruises on them that they would later show Stu. Diana says Bret is the only Hart boy who had to be routinely told not to hit girls.
Diana remembers how Bret would routinely hide from Stu, who would track him down and cuff him hard upside the head. Diana praises her dad's "cuffing ability" because it would hurt, make a loud noise, but not do any damage. So she claims.
Diana casually mentions someone called "Bob Johnson" as a wrestling fan who moved into the Hart House in 1989 to help with their mom's office work, but Diana says he stayed there for nearly a decade. She describes him as a pretty gross individual who left his child pornograohy lying around. She doesn't go into more detail on who he is or why he was there for over 8 years but it's just a big "What the fuck" moment while reading her book.
Diana describes how all the kids had to show up for Sunday dinner, regardless of who you were angry at or what was going on. Diana says by the time all the kids got married, these weekly dinners would be super hostile get together full of fights and catty remarks.
Diana makes a point of saying "on the rare occasion that Owen's wife Martha came to one of these dinners, she would just contradict everything anyone says." Diana paints Martha in a pretty bad light in this book.
Diana says that if these dinners got the slightest big chaotic, Owen and Martha would always just immediately leave. She says the family would always react poorly to this and accuse Martha of pulling Owen away from his own family. Diana suspects Owen just had enough fighting and didn't want to subject his wife and kids to it. Smart man.
She doesn't talk much about her brother Ross, but in a chapter dedicated to Dean, she points out the differences between the two, despite sharing the same birth date, five years apart. She calls Dean open and honest, and describes him with love and affection, while describing Ross as the opposite, and even randomly saying, "He still harbors big secrets." Ross is one of those Hart's who I have literally never heard a negative thing about tbh, him and Wayne are always regarded well. So it's weird to hear someone speak badly about Ross.
Diana says one time in Hawaii visiting Dean who was loving there, Dean got her to help him move some boxes. The boxes were owned by a guy named Ronnie Ching, who once spent time in jail for murder. In the boxes was ammunition and other criminal paraphernalia and Diana says she and Dean got their fingerprints all over the boxes that day. Dean was storing the boxes at his apartment for this Ronnie Ching fellow.
A Honolulu city prosecutor named Charles Marsland was convinced that Ronnie Ching had murdered his son, but couldn't prove it, but he was absolutely out to get Ronnie. Diana says the police chief actually warned wrestler King Curtis Ikea to get ahold of Dean and get him back home asap, because this prosecutor Charles "isn't taking prisoners."
Charles Marsland eventually got ahold of the boxes and brought Dean in for questioning based off his fingerprints. Dean didn't say anything and after he was released, fled back home on King Curtis's advice. The boxes were eventually linked to Ronnie Ching, and he got indicated on 11 counts. The boxes were filled with guns and ammunition. Ronnie, mistakenly believed that Dean flipped on him and years later, after Dean thought things had cooled down, actually went back to Hawaii where Ronnie tracked him down and along with several other men, beat Dean near to death. Most think that Ronnie (or whomever attacked Dean) thought they had legitimately killed Dean that night. He was fucked up and most people think this is when his kidneys really got fucked up. It's impossible to say though since Dean rarely went to a doctor about it and never followed their advice.
This was all from Diana's POV but it's honestly the most in depth account that I've heard when it comes to how Dean was nearly beaten to death.
Diana talks about how fucked up Dean was afterwords with his kidneys failing. She said he would sit in front of the oven, open it up and crank it to 500 as he ate shaved ice. His kidneys couldn't even process water so Dean couldn't eat or drink, he just chewed on shaved ice as he deteriorated further and further.
Diana talks about something that I have always had an issue with, Dean just needed a basic kidney transplant and had 13 viable doners right there who all just watched him die. Don't get wrong, he wasn't following doctors advice so there is a chance the donation would have been wasted, but it's still shocking that no one stepped up. Bret talked about this in his book, and spoke in shame about how he didn't want to derail his career before it got going in the late 80s when Dean needed the transplant.
Diana says no one talked about a potential transplant too much and no doctors ever really pushed them to do it. They didn't know how fast Dean was dying and didn't realize the timetable he had. Diana spoke earlier in the book about how Stu hated being sick and trained his kids to think they were immune to illness. No one took Dean's kidney failure as seriously as they should have because they all thought the Hart's were indestructible at the time. How times change.
The last time Diana saw Dean, she asked him, "how are you doing?" To which Dean replied, "Barely functioning." They had a laugh and Diana didn't think much of it, but two days later, Diana says Allison's daughter Brooke found Dean dead, naked and laying on the bathroom floor.
Diana was at Bret Hart's house when Dean died. She says she was trying to bury the hatchet with Bret's wife Julie after Diana alledgedly said that Bret only married her because she got knocked up. Diana doesn't deny saying this, but does comment that she thinks Bret and Julie would have gotten married with or without a kid, so it sounds like she did say that. Diana says Julie refused to return her calls for over a year.
While visiting together, Diana remembers Julie answering the phone and Diana remembers seeing Julie's face fall and darken before she quickly hung up. Julie just told Diana to call home, where her sister Allison told her that Dean had died. She and everyone else in the family was blindsided by this, and I think it's because of how Stu raised them all to think they were above being sick.
Owen was wrestling in Germany when Dean died and Diana thinks his wife Martha convinced him not to come home for the funeral because Martha was with him in Germany. Martha's sister and mother attended the funeral and read a card that Owen had written. Diana makes fun of the way Martha's mom pronounced her name like "Marta."
Diana says Martha's sister was very nice but didn't understand why she was so nice to Martha, who Diana said was "always a bitch to her."
Diana says that Martha's mom got super drunk at Dean's funeral and "pushed drinks" on Diana's mom Helen.
Diana says after they scattered Dean's ashes, everyone but Bruce's wife joined hands as her brother Wayne sang "Hallelujah." Bruce's wife is a young girl named Andrea, who will eventually leave Bruce for Diana's husband Davey Boy.
Diana talks a bit about Wayne (no one ever does so I wanted to hear anything on the guy) and describes him as a bit of a hippie who got a long much better with his mom than his dad. Stu never liked his long hair or his smoking, she says Stu attributed that type of stuff to peer pressure and felt his kids were above any sort of society type pressures.
Diana remembers how Stu would be backstage before a Stampede show and trying to get the guys to cut out the weapons and over the top angles, but right after he left, Bruce would stand up and say, "Fuck him, he's senile. I'm the one who calls the shots around here."
Truly horrifying tale incoming. Dynamite Kid's manager was John Foley, an old school shooter from Europe who helped train Billy Robinson. By the time John Foley got to Calgary he became a drunk, and used the death of his son as the excuse for his drinking. John had a daughter who was in a minor car accident when she was 20 years old. John thought he had a big settlement payday coming, but was disappointed when the xrays showed his daughter was fine. This is the fucked up and truly sickening part. John took his daughter to Dynamite Kid and asked Dynamite to break his daughters legs so they will have a a chance at a settlement. They did it. They gagged her mouth with a towel and held her down as Dynamite Kid smacked her knees with a mallet until both of them were broken. The insurance company awarded them 20 grand but the poor girl's legs never recovered and she never walked normally again. Last Diana heard, she was very heavy with completely useless knees. This story didn't come out until Dynamite Kid went back home and his terrified wife Michelle was able to tell someone. Dynamite alledgedly beat her all the time and poor Michelle was too afraid to tell anyone.
Diana says Michelle would often call her and Davey Boy up in the middle of the night, panicked and crying, saying how Dynamite is threatening her with a loaded gun. Dynamite would often pull the trigger of an empty gun pointed at Michelle and menacingly tell her how one day it may be loaded.
Another horrifying tale here, Diana claims that Michelle once confided to her how one time while partying with Wayne's girlfriend Sandra, Dynamite Kid spiked their drinks and r*ped them both.
Chapter 15 is titled "Bruce and Andrea" and I was wondering how much Diana would talk about her creepy 33 year old brother knocking up his 17 year old student.
Good lord, while Ive read that Bruce was 33 and Andrea was 17 when they met, Diana says here that Bruce was actually 37 and Andrea was only 14.
Diana calls Andrea a "ring rat" who would hang around the wrestling shows looking to hook up with guys.
Diana says Bruce was heartbroken over some former girlfriend (who was also younger than him and also a high school student) when he met Andrea, and soon enough, Andrea was tagging along in the van with Bruce to shows. Diana even claims that the two would have sex in the van while the other guys had to awkwardly not look or pay attention because Bruce was technically their boss.
When Andrea was 15, she told Bruce she was pregnant, despite saying she was on birth control. Diana suspects Andrea was never on birth control and her plan all along was to get knocked up by one of Stu's kids. Andrea's mom Bunny, confronted Stu shortly after Andrea got knocked up and said if Bruce doesn't marry her and take care of Andrea, then they would go to the papers with a story about Stu Hart's 38 year old son knocking up his 15 year old student.
Diana calls this Bunny woman the stupidest person she ever met and legitimately insane. Diana says that Bunny later confided to the Hart's that she ordered Andrea to get knocked up by Bruce. What the fuck am I reading?
After Bruce and Andrea got married, Diana claims Andrea would throw a ton of parties while Bruce was on the road, and that she was having sex with multiple men each night, with her baby in the next room.
Diana says Andrea lied about having a miscarriage in late 1990, saying she instead got breat enhancement surgery that Stu and Helen Hart paid for.
Diana was very angry that her mom was giving Andrea $800 per week as just spending money, meanwhile Diana claims that Stampede Wrestling couldn't afford to pay Davey Boy for some shows he worked. Diana is also upset that Bruce was making $1000 per week to run Stampede Wrestling in its sorry state on its last legs. The amount of money I hear about Stu Hart wasting, always shocks me.
Diana says her mom would routinely threatening to kill herself over financial struggles.
Diana talks about how her and Davey were struggling financially and that Davey would let Allison Hart's piece of shit husband, Ben Bassarab and Hermesh Austin park all their sketchy stolen cars on their property in exchange for a loan to cover their mortgage. Diana says she isnt sure how involved Davey Boy got with Hermesh's criminal activities and she genuinely doesn't want to know.
Diana talks about about this Hermish person and says he is the one who got Davey hooked on coke and how this Hermish guy would brag about slitting a guys throat in Germany. Hermish Erach Austin would later be convicted to life in prison after he tortured and murdered some poor fellow, incorrectly believing he stole $10,000 from him. Austin crushed the man's hands in a vice, his ears cut off with scissors and the soles of his feet burned with a blow torch, all while this poor man begged and pleaded for his life. Austin then drove him a few miles out of Calgary where he slit his throat and shot him in the head before burrying him. A few years later one of his accomplices would flip on him and tell the police everything, leading to his arrest and sentencing. Diana expands on this a bit in her book, saying that she thinks Hermesh killed around 50 people.
Diana says Jim Neidhart is the most wicked man she ever met and calls him a moster. Jim married her sister Ellie, and says Jim left her body bruised and lumpy from years of being her punching bag.
Diana actually talks about Ellie dating a man named John who was her soulmate. They dated for 4 years until her family convinced Ellie she needed to leave him because he was paralyzed and in a wheelchair. Apparently Stu and Helen hated seeing Ellie push him around and said a girl as pretty as her shouldn't be doing that. They also hated that John couldn't have kids so Ellie wouldn't give them grandchildren if she stayed with him. Diana then casually mentions how Ellie broke up with John after he made a pass at their sister Alison.
Diana says that Jim Neidhart was on a University scholarship for Shot Put, but was eventually expelled after he tried to extort the school for money. He didn't go to class and demanded money in exchange for him being on the shot put team. He was tossed in jail and expelled.
After thir 3rd child, doctors informed Ellie that she would have to have her tubes tied. It sounds like Stu and Helen were heartbroken over this and Jim was furious because he wanted a son.
Diana says Jim would go on the.road for a couple weeks and only leave Ellie with $10 and order her not to leave the house.
Diana says Jim was doping Ellie's drinks and rping her every night. She says that Jim would teach this "trick" to Davey Boy. Diana also says the repeated rping left Ellie with bad hemeroids and she could never afford the cream to treat it.
Diana says Davey Boy knocked some other girl up just a few weeks before they got married. She later says that Alison's husband Ben moved in with a girl named Monique, and Diana says that Monique later claimed to get knocked up by Davey Boy before Diana married him. I'm unsure if Diana is referring to the same person here, or if Davey Boy knocked someone up and another girl also claimed to have been knocked up the same time.
Diana and Davey Boy moved to Florida in the early 90s where her sister Ellie and Jim Neidhart were as well. This is where Diana says that Davey Boy started drugging and r*ping her. She says that Duke "The Dumpster" Droesse showed Davey how to make liquid GHB (Gamma-hydroxybutyrate) to "help with sleeping." She was confused why she had hemeroids and was waking up sore and with bruises. When she explained this to Ellie, Ellie just casually said "That's what Jim would do to me."
Diana says Bruce's wife Andrea would drink and smoke pot and do drugs through all her pregnancies. Really helps explain their 3rd child being born 2 months premature and nearly dying.
Diana says that Andrea was getting pregnant again and again and again with hopes of Helen and Stu giving her and Bruce the Hart House.
Diana says Davey Boy failed a WWF drug test in early 1992 for Ecstacy and MDMA. She says Vince told Davey that he would wind up killing himself if he continued down this road.
Diana puts over her preformance leading up to the 1992 SummerSlam where Davey Boy and Bret wrestled in the main event. She says that Vince McMahon asked Bret and Davey to come up with the finish on their own so he would be suprised. First time I've heard Vince doing this, I think Diana got worked by someone here.
Diana remembers seeing Davey Boy after the match and him asking her how the match was because he couldn't remember it. She thought he was joking initially.
Diana compares Davey Boy being fired to Bret winning the WWE title following their match. Davey was fired after Ultimate Warror ratted on Davey Boy to the Drug Enforcement Agency. Vince apparently told Davey that he would hire him back once things cooled down. She legitimately believes that Davey Boy would have won the WWF title instead of Bret, had he not been fired.
Diana says Davey Boy and WWF battled over legal rights to the Bulldog name. Diana is bitter and points out how Vince still sold Bulldog merchandise after he fired Davey and they never saw a dime.
Diana says Davey Boy hated working for WCW and calls out Vader for being reckless in his matches with Davey.
Diana randomly says that she finds Sting to be overrated.
Diana talks about the event at a bar in July 1993, where Davey Boy alledgedly assaulted someone for hitting in Diana. She describes it as Davey putting some drunk asshole in a front face lock, and walking him over to the bounces to let him go. She says when Davey let him go, the man fell and hit his head. Eye witness accounts claim that Davey Boy just picked the guy up and spiked him down on his head. Diana vehemently denies this claim, calling it impossible. The man would sue Davey Boy and risk sending him to jail for a serious assault charge. Diana says while tye judge eventually ruled in their favor, it cost her and the Hart Family over $500,000 in legal fees.
Diana says WCW used the pending lawsuit and legal battles to withhold a bonus they promised him. She says at one point in a meeting, Eric Bishoff pulled out his false teeth, slapped them on the table and challenged Davey Boy to a legitimate fight over the money.
Diana says WCW let Davey Boy go after he failed a drug test and refused rehab.
When WWF reached out to Davey Boy in 1994 about returning, Diana claims Hulk Hogan called up Davey Boy to pitch him coming back to WCW and says Davey Boy struggled to pick where to go. She said Davey Boy really trusted Hogan but didn't trust WCW.
Diana says WWF wanted her to be a heel on the road with Davey Boy and cutting promos but Bret nixed the idea and pushed against it. She thinks Bret was afraid of having multiple family members in kayfabe shitting on him and what that would do to his reputation. Diana says the WWF was really impressed by her promo work.
She would do some valet work though for Davey Boy and Owen, Diana puts over that time as well as Jim Cornette who got involved as well.
Diana says that WWF wanted her to be an on screen heel who makes a move on Shawn Michaels, who turns her down. So she goes and tells Davey Boy that she turned down his advances to kickstart a big rivalry. Davey Boy hated the idea and Diana says that her parents and Bret talked her out of doing it. Though she does wonder if this could have been her big break and become a wrestling star.
Diana spends a chapter talking about the saddest tragedy in the entire Hart Famlily history, little Matt Hart. Allison and BJ's 13 year old son Matt contracted a rare and deadly flesh eating disease that tore through him in under 2 weeks before he passed away. Both Diana Hart and Nattie Neidhart talk about how disfigured Matt became before his death. Diana says the doctors told them that Matt was the sickest child in the country at that time.
Diana spends a chapter taking about Owen and Martha Hart, and all but calls Martha a ring rat. No one has ever made that claim about Martha as far as I know.
Diana randomly brings up how Martha's sister Virginia had an affair with her son's hockey coach. She says Owen wanted nothing to do with Martha's sister.
Diana says that Owen fell in love with some girl in England named Louisa, and that Owen confided to Diana that he wanted to leave Martha and that Louisa was everything he wanted. Diana says Martha "wouldn't have it" before describing how Martha manipulated Owen into staying with her. She says that Owen had never broken up with a girl and didn't want to hurt her. Diana says that Owen told her, "I just can't hurt her, so I'll live with it then. Christ."
Diana calls Martha "a dominating and controlling partner in their relationship."
Diana describes how Martha's aunt got too drunk at Owen/Martha's wedding.
Diana says Martha was always victimizing herself and making Owen feel like he needed to take care of her.
Diana says that while on the road with Owen in 1995, he confided to her how unhappy he was with his marriage and specifically calls out Martha's mother who was living with Martha and Owen. Diana says Martha's mother had a big drinking problem.
Diana says that none of the Hart's were invited to Owen Hart's son's christening and Diana says Helen was especially hurt. Owen defended this by claiming they wouldn't have bothered to even show up on time.
Diana says Martha didn't want to tell the Hart's when she was pregnant because Martha believed it would curse her baby.
Diana says that Davey Boy tried morphine for the first time the weekend of the Calgary Stampede show in 1997. She says she heard about this from her son Harry because Davey Boy decided to confide about using morphine to his 13 year old son.
Diana randomly shades Ken Shamrock, calling him out for having a ton from stripper girlfriends in Calgary, while always pretending to be a devoted family man.
When Davey Boy and Shawn Michaels headlined the One Night Only ppv in September 1997, Diana says that Bret was furious that he wasn't main eventing. She says Bret made a big stink over it and even threatened to quit the company.
Diana says she first figured out Davey had a drug problem on Halloween in 1997 when Davey was suffering from withdrawl and couldn't even sit up on his own one night.
Diana criticizes Bret, calling him a hypocrite for not trusting Vince while Bret was secretly wearing a wire and recording their conversations. She is referring to the Wrestling with Shadow's documentary crew and how Bret was mic'd.
Diana remembers being at the show for the Montreal Screwjob and how Davey Boy thought it was weird how Vince wasn't wearing a big suit like he usually does.
Diana says that Davey Boy hurt his knee during the post-match kerfuffle.
Diana repeats a claim that Bruce Hart made in his book, that Bret disowned Owen as a brother following the Montreal screwjob. Bruce and Diana both say that Bret was furious when Owen didnt quit WWF and was given a massive raise instead. Diana even says she remembers Bret screaming, "That fucking Martha! She's got Owen so fucking p*ssy-whipped! Fuck her, she doesn't know what she is talking about, she doesn't unsterstand the wrestling business!" Bruce Hart maintained in his book that Bret and Owen never really talked again or repaired their relationship before Owen died. Bret denies this and describes tons of times him amd Owen kept up following the Screwjob.
Diana says that Owen got tired of Bret calling him all the time and says Owen eventually told Bret, "I'm sick of you, I'm sick of all this." She says Owencjust wanted to retire to a remote place where no one knows his or the Hart name. She remembers all he wanted was for people to leave Martha and him alone.
Diana says Bret never got over the Screwjob.
Diana describes how Bret hounded Davey and her every day trying to get Davey to leave WWF just like Bret was doing by calling Owen and Martha daily.
Davey Boy's first WCW match back in 1998 was against Steve "Mondo" McMichael and Diana claims that Eric Bishoff told Davey Boy to break Steve's arm for real. Apparently Eric said he was tired of dealing with him.
Diana also says that backstage before the match, Arn Anderson told Mondo to go do some coke so he could preform better. She says Davey Boy was mortified by the lack of care to the wrestlers in WCW.
Diana says Davey Boy immediately regretted jumping to WCW and says Bret refused to help him backstage or with his booking. Diana remembers a day when Davey Boy broke down crying at the dinner table, saying how he shouldn't have left Vince and how he hates Bret.
By mid-1998, Diana says Davey was "like a vegetable," and described how he just laid on the couch all day and needed help doing everything other than using the bathroom or shooting up.
Diana says he family didn't believe her when she tried to confide to them about how bad Davey was. Diana says she was told that she was being hysterical.
Diana describes how she would use a water pistol on Davey Boy when he became despondent and her sisters would act like she is abusing him. She describes how tough it was to keep care of big Davey Boy when his body would shut down.
Diana remembers how her kids would ask her why their dad has sores all over his arms and why he behaves like a zombie.
Diana says Davey Boy became a "public embarrassment."
It was Friday night in early December when Diana remembers watching Edward Sissor Hand with her son Harry while Davey spent the day shooting up morphine and being a vegetable on the couch. She says after she put Harry to sleep, she wrote a letter to herself and then got worked up and wanted to confront Davey. He was passed out in bed, so a manic Diana grabbed a bottle of Xanax and downed what she thinks to be 100 pills. She told Davey if he loves her he will call an ambulance for her. She watched as he struggled to sit up and realized she doesn't want to die. She called 911 and confessed what she done and they told her to get dressed, unlock the door for the ambulance and lay down.
Diana says her heart stopped 4 times on the way to the hospital.
Keith Hart says Diana was never the same after her suicide attempt and that she was a shadow of herself.
Diana says her mother Helen was more concerned about some party she was planning in a few weeks and wanted to know if Diana could make it. Diana also says Helen told her not to tell anyone what happened to her.
Diana says her brother Keith confided to her afterwards that Davey is "as bad as Elvis" when it comes to his drug problems.
Diana also remembers her brother Owen Hart lecturing her about never doing that again because she would have been leaving her kids with a drug addict.
Diana says she filed for divorce in January 1999, and with the help of her brother Bret Hart and his wife Julie, the 3 of them confronted Davey over all his issues and eventually got him to agree to rehab and Diana agreed to put off any divorce for now.
Diana claims that Davey Boy would cheat on her with nurses from the rehab clinic.
Diana says Davey checked himself out of rehab a week early, citing kidney problems that no doctors agreed were actually present. She says he then tried to fake every illness or sickness he could to get administered to a hospital where they would give him drugs.
Diana says she desperately called WWF in 1998 and asked if they would hire her as a valet/manager, and she even pitched working with Owen. She says Owen later scolded her for this and told her she shouldn't get involved in wrestling and that it would only make her more unhappy.
Shockingly enough, Davey would get his wish when he got a legit staph infection and had to go to the hospital. Diana remembers watching the nurses or doctors struggle to find a vein on Davey.
The doctors told Davey that his career was over, and Diana says "this eclipsed Bret's retirement," but this was 1998, and Bret hadn't retired yet. I'm not sure what she means.
Diana says WCW released hum by fax while Davey was in the hospital for over a month. Diana says Owen got Davey back in touch with the WWF and claims that Vince promised Davey a job even if he couldn't wrestle.
Diana says she and her kids were watching the 1999 Over The Edge ppv by coincidence because Diana wanted to get up to speed on WWF storylines as Davey was heading back. She said she stepped away for a few minutes before a TSN reporter called her and asked about Owen's condition and that they were praying for him. After she hung up, her son Harry came running over, saying something happened to Owen.
Diana says that Stu called her first to tell her Owen died because of how close she and Owen were.
Diana said she later found out that Bret spent that night at Martha's to console her. But she hints at an affair which is just wild, though she tries to cover her ass by saying "I'm sure it was platonic, but" before ranting about how Bret manipulated Martha into wanting to sue Vince.
Diana says she spoke to Vince McMahon on the phone the morning of Owen's funeral, and she puts over how compassionate and loving Vince was.
Diana says that Bret will kill her for saying this, but she believes Owen Hart was like a son to Vince McMahon.
Diana says that only Bret and Ross were allowed to speak at the funeral and is very upset that her parents weren't asked to speak. Their older brother Smith wrote a lovely poem that he had hoped to say, as well as Bruce and Ellie, both hopeful they would be allowed to speak. Like Bret, Diana featured Smith's poem in her book and some of what Bruce and Ellie would have said. But Bruce mentioned in his book how he wanted to use Owen's funeral as a platform to make some passionate speech that he believed would bring Vince and Bret and the whole world together.
Diana says that Martha didn't thank Diana during Martha's speech at the funeral. Martha thanked each of Owen's siblings, except Diana. Diana says that later, Bret would bring this up and tell her that Owen thought Diana was useless and didn't like her.
Diana gave an interview to the Calgary Sun, where she said that Vince feels awful and called Owen's death an accident. She said Bret later called her screaming about how that undermines the investigation and accusing her of trying to get her and Davey jobs with WWF.
Diana says that Bret threatened to kill her during that call and promised that if he saw her on the street, he would run her down with her car. He then threatened to publish articles about Davey being a drug addict and Diana's suicide attempt. At the time, Bret had a weekly column in the Calgary Sun about whatever he felt like. Though, Bruce Hart claims to have written most of it until a jealous Bret fired him.
Diana says that Bret was adamant that Vince intentionally killed Owen that night, and there was nothing accidentally about it.
Diana remembers her sister saying that Owen's death would hit Diana and Bruce hardest since they were closest to Owen.
Diana says she tried to bury the hatchet with Martha after the funeral, but Martha's mom wouldn't let Diana in the house and told her, "Martha doesn't need anything from you."
Diana says Davey Boy fumbled every opportunity WWE gave him after Owen died, and one cold night in late 1999, she caught him injecting morphine into his arm. He tearfully begged her not to tell Vince.
Diana remembers her sister Ellie stopping by while Davey Boy was passed out on the couch. Diana pulled back his sleeves to show Ellie all his track marks from needle injections.
Diana served Davey Boy divorce papers in January 2000, and she remembers her parents berating her choice to leave him. She specifically remembers Stu saying to her, "You're no spring chicken!"
Diana says she told called Vince McMahon herself and told him about Davey's drug problem. Vince ordered Davey into rehab, and Diana remembers getting dozens of manic phone calls a day from Davey and how they terrified her.
Diana was dating and not wanting to be secretive about, told Davey Boy. She claims Davey reached out to some of his criminal friends, and her new date started getting phone call death threats.
Diana bought herself a place to stay away from Davey, but when Davey checked himself out of rehab, he moved right into Diana's place. She said she called the cops and was advised to leave. She had nowhere to go and moved in with that guy she was seeing.
Around the time WWF finally released him, Diana says Davey Boy, and some accomplice showed up at her boyfriends place with a tire iron and ski masks on, but the building security stopped them
Diana says Davey would regularly shoot up morphine in front of the kids.
Diana says Davey Boy OD'd 6 times from March to September in 2000.
Diana says she didn't care that Davey Biy was dating, but shocked when she found out Davey Boy and Bruce Hart's young wife were having an affair together. Diana says Bruce asked her to take Davey Boy back so that Bruce's wife Andrea would have to go back to Bruce.
Diana says Davey Boy threatened to "bootf*ck" her and her new boyfriend and threatened to slit her throat.
Once, Davey actually broke her door down, so she called 911 and remembers how one of the cops actually asked Davey for an autograph.
Diana points out how Martha dropped all contact with the Hart's after the Owen lawsuit and notes how Martha says whatever mean things she wants now, despite the fact that Stu and Helen paid her legal fees.
Diana ends her chapter on Owen and Martha by casually suggesting the Hart's should sue Martha.
Diana says at a WWF show in 2001, she ran into Owen's old valet, Deborah, who screamed at her for using the talent bathroom, saying that no one wants to catch whatever Diana has. Diana assumes Deborah was threatened by her when she saw Diana talking to Deborah's husband, Steve Austin. This is such a random little story she brought up at the very end of her book.
The book ends with Diana mentioning the RAW show in Calgary in 2001, where she and Bruce dragged Stu to the show after Bret and Martha asked them not to go. She says Bruce purposely sat her behind someone so the camera wouldn't see her. Smith got on camera with a sign that said, "Hi Bret."
She says Bret came to the house afterward and took baby pictures of Owen off the wall while yelling at them all for being selfish. She says Martha called the house and screamed at Helen, telling her to go to hell! Both of these have more or less been confirmed to have happened. Martha and Bret asked them not to go to the WWF show, with Stu and Helen both agreeing. But Bruce and Diana showed up the day of the show and literally dragged Stu to the show. Poor Helen didn't go and still got yelled at for it.
The book ends with her saying she is close to her kids and living with her boyfriend still.
She wrote this book before Davey Boy's death so we don't get any details there and I would have loved to hear some since Davey Boy was still with Andrea when he died, though Diana claims that Davey Boy reached out to her, just days before he passed, hoping to reconnect.
Both Andrea and Diana put on separate funerals, and Bruce said in his book that they were trying to outdo the other one. I would have loved to hear Diana's take on that.
Diana Hart went on record, saying that the book twisted her words and had been changed from how she written them originally. Though when Martha initially threatened legal action, Diana was quoted as saying, "Martha has money to fight me on it, and I don't. I know what I have written is true."
Tom "Dynamite Kid" Billington confirmed most of the stories involving him in the book are true. Why would anyone admit to what Diana said about him?
Co-wroter Kristie McLellan has stated that Diana Hart took her on "an amazing journey" when writing the book. Kristie continued her writing career, including helping pen one of the best sports books I've ever read, "Playing With Fire," the story of Theo Fleury of the Calgary Flames. I can't believe she helped write both of these books. One is in the top 5 sports books, and the other is in the bottom 5 books of all time for me.
Bret had publicly expressed skepticism to Diana's claim of ignorance on the book.
Diana actually went on to write a trilogy of romance novels that were well regarded and won some awards. Diana calls this book "a failure as a journey."
Diana still does the odd appearances and anything to help promote her dad and family, and in 2015, she sold all the rights to the British Bulldog to her son Harry. She seems close with all her siblings these days, except Bret.
I hope to find Martha Hart's book next, and then I think that would be the last of the Hart Family books that I've been looking for over the past year. Big thanks again to the users who helped me out with this book!

[El-Agheila Concentration Camp. ]
Poet Rajab Buhwaysh, "No Illness But This Place"
By : Khaled Mattawa
This long poem is from the concentration camp of El-Agheila in Libya, is one the most criminal chapters in the history of colonial Africa. The Italian colonization of Libya began in 1911, but in the east it was successfully resisted by the Sanussiyya movement for more than two decades. When the Fascists rose to power in Rome in 1922, colonization efforts intensified in order to pave the way for settlement programs—and the resistance intensified in kind under the leadership of Umar al-Mukhtar.
By 1929, the Italians began removing the native population so as to deprive the resistance of material support. By the end, they had deported two thirds of the population of the east to 16 camps. Forced to walk hundreds of miles, many perished before they even arrived. In some sense, the camps were a colonial prelude to those of Europe in the years that followed—with barbed wire, forced labor, a total lack of medical aid, and intense hunger and deprivation. Prisoners talked of having to eat grass, insects and mice to stay alive. In 1931, Omar al-Mukhtar was captured and executed. The majority of the other resistance leaders were captured or killed by 1932, and the resistance collapsed soon thereafter. By 1934, the camps were no longer necessary. Of the 110,000 Libyans originally sent to the camps, less than 40,000 survived the ordeal.
The poet Rajab Hamad Buhwaish al-Minifi was interned in the notorious El-Agheila camp, reserved for the families and relatives of resistance fighters. His poem " ما بي مرض " is one of the few primary documents of the camp experience. The poem spawned numerous others with the same refrain as well as songs and remains well-known among Libyans till this day.

(((No illness but this place)))

I have no illness but this place of Egaila,
the imprisonment of my tribe
and separation from my kin’s abode.

No illness but endless grief
meager provisions
and the loss of my black red-spotted steed

who, when strife broke, stretched her solid-flesh neck,
impossible to describe,
her peer does not exist.

I have no illness except my threadbare state
and this unbearable longing
for Aakrama, Adama and Sgaif,

And for the pastures of Lafwat, the best of places,
which, even when parched
bursts grass green for the herds.

I long for Aakrama and Sarrati,
I wish I were there now.
I’ll be grateful to reach them alive.

When I remember those places I forget my misery—
tears fall,
storms drenching my beard, raging floods.

I have no illness but the memory of the sons of Harabi,
the best of friends
who keep on striking as bullets rain down.

and who ride spirited red horses—whoever falls
is promptly snatched up
by great companions who concede his love.

I have no illness but the loss of good men
and all our possessions
and the incarceration of our women and children.

The horseman who once chased untamed camels,
Now bows his head to the invaders
like an obedient girl.

He bows to them like a concubine
who has made a mistake
and must show deference morning and night.

Carrying filth and wood and water, a low life indeed—
none but God can rise and lift this grief.

Bowing like a slave
forgetting my status
having lived my life untainted, strong,

I stand without vigor, light and useless,
a mere factotum
carrying on as if healthy, free of disease.

I have no illness except missing loved ones
gentle, honorable folk
riding sturdy camels, prancing steeds.

They were lost for a trifle before my eyes
and I’ve found nothing
to console me since they were laid to waste.

I have no illness except this endless aging this loss of sense and dignity
loss of good people who were my treasure,

Yunes who rivals al-Hilali
throne of the tribe
Emhemed and Abdulkarim al-Ezaila and Buhssain.

His sweet countenance and open hand
and al-Oud and the likes of him,
lost without a battle to honor their parting.

I have no illness except the loss of young men
masters of clans
plucked out like dates in the daylight

who stood firm-chested against scoundrels
the blossoms of our houses
whose honor will shine despite what the ill-tongued say.

I have no illness except the dangers of roadwork
my bare existence,
returning home without a morsel to shove down a throat.

Whips lash us before our women’s eyes rendering us useless
degraded, not even a match among us to light a wick.

Nothing ails me except the beating of women
whipping them naked
not an hour are they left unharassed.

Not even a shred of regard for them,
calling them ‘whores’
and other foulness, an affliction to the well-bred.

I have no illness except an inability to think straight
my scandalized pride
and the loss of my brother Mattari’s sons, Moussa and Jibril

sweet companions of night-dirges, masters of horses
tamers of wild camels
unharmed by rumors calling them cowardly, meek.

I have no illness except this long homesickness
my arms bound tight
my patience withered, no means to make a livelihood.

And my stalwart mates who rescue in strife
best of the tribe
neighbors who nightly guard the camel herd.

I have no illness except my far-flung kin
imprisoned by thugs
and the lack of friends to grieve to when wronged

the lack of those who rule with fairness,
justice nonexistent
evil dominant, crushing any grain of good.

I have no illness except my daughters’ despicable labor
the lack of peace
loss of friends death hurriedly took

and the capture of my firm-muscled Bu Atatti
his likes desirable
who sooths the heart in a forlorn hour.

No illness except the loss of my pasture
and I’m not counting
even though the taker has no remorse, no pangs of guilt.

They bring nothing except rule by torture

long booming throats

tongues tapered with pounding epithets.

No illness except the lack of defenders
frailty of my words
the humiliation of the noble-named

the loss of my gazelle-like unbridled steed
swift-limbed
fine-featured like a minted coin of gold.

I have no illness except the hearing of abuse
denial of pleas
and the loss of those who were once eminent.

And women laid down naked, stripped
for the least of causes
trampled and ravished, acts no words deign describe.

No illness except the saying of “Beat them”
"No pardon”
and “With the sword extract their labor,”

thronged in the company of strangers,
a base living—
except for God’s help, my hands’ cunning stripped.

No illness but the swallowing of hardship
my imagination pining
for our horses, sheep, beasts of burden.

Nothing but starving work under lashing wails—
what a wretched life!
Then for tattered chattel they turn on the women.

No illness except the loss of sweet and good people—
a government of imbeciles now
faces that bespeak calamity, others vulgar glare.

How many a child has fallen writhing to their whips
his senses bewildered.
O my conscience, an old man now among his peers.

No illness except the breaking of wills
my tears pour and drip
herds let loose to no one’s care.

Shepherds have roped their best studs
letting unfit, measly males
mate with their young dromedaries.

No illness except the capture of honored men
the nullity of my days
and the Capo who daily beats the kind-hearted.

He stands, calls you out with a burning tongue
spewing foulness.
You fear he’ll kill you before you sound your grievance.

Ill-bred imbeciles now rule. How could one sleep
with them roaming about?
They’ll sell you out for the slightest of cause.

I have no illness except shorn honors.
Black guards standing
stiff with cruelty, barbed wire looped around poles.

No strength, will, or effort to lift these burdens—
Of our lives we’re ready
to absolve ourselves when death’s agent comes around.

No illness except the bad turn of my stars(luck)
the theft of my property
the tight misery of where I lie down to rest.

The fearsome horseman who on days of fray
shielded his women folk
now begs, straggling after apes without tails.

Every day I rise complaining of subjugation
my spirit disgraced
and like a helpless girl I can’t break my chains.

I have no illness except the bent shape of my life
my limpid, wilted tongue.
I cannot tolerate shame, though now shame has overtaken me.

And my tribesmen of whom I used to boast
beautiful in strength and poise
unshakeable when a day turns, disaster foretold—

When they fell, I was chased out of my home
a long night
its darkness overpowered my lanterns’ bright flames.

I have no illness except missing my land
and longing for my home
the pastures out west towards Sa-aadi…

I plead with the Generous one
on whom I lay my dependence
to swiftly lift this evil before thirty nights pass.

Only God is eternal. The guardian of Mjamam is gone—
an oppressive light now shines
no daylight is safe from the wicked’s darkness.

If not for the danger, I would say what I feel—
I would raise him to noble heights
expound my praise, sound the gratitude I owe
•

so. i keep seeing all the AQA people complaining about having to do poetry tomorrow. us WJEC people have already done poetry. we just have a play (AIC for me), a book (J+H for me) and unseen poetry. and btw nearly all of your poems look dreadful. but, if it's any consolation, every single AQA exam has been super easy so yall will probably get ozzymandias or something (WJEC got manhunt and relationships)
good luck for tomorrow though :)

Tissue
Polysemous title- Tissue • Tissue- paper + skin (human life is fragile [criticises arrogance, encourages us to protect]) • Also paper (not alive) + skin (alive)- criticises monotony of life, not really living • Tissue paper- found in bibles and holy texts, but fragile (overinflated importance of identity causing wars and discrimination, really it’s very fragile and identity isn’t real, we’re all just people (tissue as in skin)) • Tissue- used to wipe away tears, togetherness can reduce suffering • Tissue- medical term for deep skin- poem shows deeper nature of humans and our potential for goodness, can be wounded and damaged by outside influences but can always heal
"Paper that lets the light shine through, this is what could alter things" - reference to religious texts paper, light as Jesus and Allah (power of religion) - or coexistence with nature (Dharker is a Muslim Calvinist)
Enjambment- freedom, lack of control of humans, rejecting constraints
Free verse- same thing
"Let the daylight break through capitals and monoliths" - power of nature, criticism of authority, weakness of humans- “break” violent personification, destroying authority, daylight + break = sunrise + hope
"The sun shines through their borderlines" - nature overcomes human segregation identity, criticism of war, power of nature) sibilance shows power, “their” still shows separation, criticise that
"fly our lives like paper kites" - childish metaphor, mocking control of money over life (criticism of authority)
"the back of the Koran" - “the” repetition shows importance, “back” shows it is hidden/shunned by society, still holding onto identity
"Transparent" - repetition, criticism of dishonesty of authority
Exposure
"Merciless iced east winds that knive us" - personification of wind shanking people (first line not about war but nature- more significant) (power of nature)- subtle sibilance (just as dangerous as bullets but most people don’t realise)- Germans were in the east, but the only thing from there is wind
ABBAC rhyme, structure is built only to be taken down (tension of soldiers expecting fight but let down)
Pararhyme- unsatisfying for reader, reflects how the soldiers are always nervous but never get to chill
“What are we doing here?” Rhetorical question to criticise authority, or actual question to show PTSD confusion, can be asking what they are DOING or why they are HERE
"For love of God seems dying" ok 1. The soldier's love of God is dying 2. God's love for the soldiers is dying 3. To show love of God, you should die
"forgotten dreams" - juxtaposition, loss of hope, forgotten dreams on purpose to be less sad? war made them forget? “forgotten” disassociated from PTSD, “dreams” as happiness from the past that seems unreal
“a dull rumour of some other war" reference to the Bible and Armageddon, metaphorical end of the world for the soldiers be suffering "sudden successive flights of bullets streak the silence" - sibilance represents sound of bullets, jolting reader out of relative lack of noises, feel like soldiers
Epistrophe "but nothing happens" cyclical structure, stuck in suffering
“we” “us” “our” collective pronouns, shared experience, comradeship, loss of identity, relatable to all soldiers
Kamikaze
Title- single word, only military rank- only seen as a kamikaze pilot by others
Structure- 6 lines per stanza but free verse and lots of enjambment- conflict between control and freedom (military/social expectations/duty vs love for family/nature/memories/life)
Constant shifts between first person and third person- disconnect from family due to shame
“Her father embarked at sunrise” -sunrise as power of nature + Japan’s military flag- conflict
“a shaven head full of powerful incantations” -incantations are deliberately vague- orders from military? prayers? inner conscience against it? It’s “powerful” tho and influences him, and it’s “full” showing his distress, shaved head like most kamikaze pilots
“green-blue translucent sea” beautiful imagery, “translucent” shows how things are unclear but getting clearer- nature helps him decide what to do
Describes fishes “like a huge flag”- patriotic semantic field shows brainwashing, but reduces as the poem goes on, simile shows how he is starting to disconnect and change his mind,
also as “a figure of eight”- shows thoughts of pride and prosperity-
“The dark shoals of fishes/flashing silver as their bellies/swivelled towards the sun” - • sibilance shows ocean noises and beauty, “dark” -> “flashing silver” things get brighter and easier to see- knows what to do thanks to nature • “Silver”- medals he would have gotten for being a kamikaze pilot, but true reward is in nature • “Sun”- represents beauty of nature and also Japanese flag- conflict but now there’s also nature in the mix • Belly up- death on his mind
“bringing their father’s home safe/-yes, grandfather’s boat- safe” repetition of “safe” shows reason to come back- wants to return to family, memories
“a tuna, the dark prince, muscular, dangerous.” • first mention of danger = power in the whole poem, danger to the mission as it causes the pilot to have doubts, true power is in nature and memory • First full stop in the poem and lots of commas- makes us stop and think like the pilot about what he’s abt to do
“laughed” “loved” at the end of the poem- all in past tense- nothing left for the soldier
“we too learned to be silent”- “learned” should be positive but contrasts with what they learnt- criticises how they were taught shame by the older generations- but it’s said in first person, the daughter is criticising this and teaching her children not to think that way
Poppies
Title- honours and grieves dead soldiers, short single word title shows full intent of the poem and how the mother’s life is consumed by grief
Dramatic monologue- emphasis on the domestic impact and how the soldier isn’t present in the poem
Free verse, enjambment- chaotic, lack of control over the son, distressed
Domestic + military semantic fields- life has been ruined by war
“Spasms of paper red, disrupting a blockade of yellow bias”- mix between war + domestic • “spasms” and “red” is injury and pain- mother is worried or is hurt by letting go (spasms is involuntary muscle action- involuntary letting go), • “paper” is the fragility of the son • “blockade” is military language showing her worry abt the conflict, how she wants to “block” her son from going into the military • “disrupting” the fabric - the son becoming a soldier disrupts the peace or she is trying to disrupt him from going to war
“The dove pulled freely against the sky, / an ornamental stitch”- dove represents peace and grief- she and her son is at peace with death, “pulled freely” is an oxymoron- inner conflict with grief or letting her son go, the comma shows a pause to reflect on the grief, the “ornamental stitch” metaphor for the mother (pretends to hold it together)
“I was brave”- takes down ideas of just the soldier’s bravery but also the mother’s, but past tense shows current weakness from grief
“Sellotape bandaged around my hand” • Bandage shows wounds • Sticks them together one last time- cat hairs are removed, no more reason to stay • Claustrophobic feeling- stuck in the domestic role, can’t go and protect the son
“Blackthorns of your hair”- religious connotations of Jesus on the cross, sacrificed for the country- metaphor for the son
History Boys
"Enemy of education" war metaphor and alliteration, opposition between true understanding of literature and grades only used shallowly “Cheat’s Visa”
"a fact of life" indisputable and unchangable, in opposition with Irwin's views on history (truth does not matter to him until now?)
Drummer Hodge: Intertextuality, Tom Hardy (the poet) represents Hector, sympathising with the ordeal of the youth, Drummer Hodge represents the Boys, thrown into the chaos of life without proper guidance
"She's my western front" war metaphor objectifies Fiona, personal pronoun further expresses how women were seen as objects to be owned
“... all the other shrunken violets you people line up" [you people] segregates gay people, [shrunken violets] derogatory language
"Some of the literature says it will pass" looking to literature for solace and comfort during a sexuality crisis
"All literature is consolation" Dakin changes his mind on literature symbolising him changing to Irwin's side. No need to look for solace in literature when he can pursue Irwin
Parallels with "all knowledge is precious" from Hector - A.E. Housman, one of the first intertextualities and used in the intro to establish his character
“cunt-struck” “a cunt”- Mrs Lintott repeats the colloquialism “cunt” twice, to describe Dakin as “cunt-struck” and Headmaster as “a cunt”. This is the hardest swear in the play and is used show that it wasn’t a slip of the tongue, and to break down stereotypes of women being gentle and passive
“history is women following behind with the bucket” - her big scene about women in history at the end of the play (which is typical for Alan Benett’s plays such as “Kafka’s Dick”) so it would be recent and stay in the audience’s mind when the show ended
Irwin intro as politician in the future "etc., etc." while talking abt freedom- that man gives no fucks about freedom really, just waffling on (first impression for the audience too!!)
Parallel with Holocaust debate- Lockwood uses the SAME EXACT PHRASE while talking abt how the holocaust was bad, (dismissiveness of mass genocide? in this education system? it’s more likely than you think) then goes on to argue that they should be unique with their arguments- Irwin passed on thr mindset even on such an important subject
Hector is set up to be looking cool and all (motorcycle scene dramaticness, greek name connotations, fav teacher) but is absolutely uncool when we get to know him- purposeful? "studied eccentricity" and all. clinging onto youth?
Posner is actually rather helpful as the "dictionary person" bc i doubt the audiences know what "otiose" means
SCRIPPS IS THE MOST RELIGIOUS ONE AND CLOSEST TO POSNER it can dismantle the idea that religion is against queerness
Irwin didnt know how nietzche was pronounced bc from what we know of him he would call Dakin out on that

Welcome to Digital Reality...
Link to Part 1
Link to Part 35 (contains links back to Parts 2-34)
Link to Part 36
Link to Part 37
Link to Part 38
Link to Part 39
Link to Part 40
Link to Part 41
Link to Part 42
Link to Part 43
Link to Part 44
Link to Part 45
Link to Part 46
Link to Part 47
Link to Part 48
Link to Part 49
Link to Part 50
Link to Part 51
Link to Part 52
Note: This story is meant to be read after completing DDLC Plus. All credit for the original DDLC and DDLC Plus characters and world goes to their creator, and this story is not affiliated with the official DDLC content. Some concepts like the Universal Constructor and the concept of AI rampancy are also borrowed from other series (most notably the original Deus Ex), though their use in this story is my own idea. With a few exceptions, my original characters in this story will generally not be named and their descriptions will be kept vague, so anyone reading this who wants to see themselves in one of the original characters can more easily do so. I'd welcome any feedback and will post more parts as I write them. I hope you enjoy the story.
Credit for Sayuri's character design: Hoeruko. Credit for Sayuri's sprites: Ian and Itz_Matic. Shout out to Matic for new Sayuri sprites!
Here is Part 53 of Digital Reality. This one is going to get emotional. Someone goes to the real world. Someone makes a sacrifice and gets left behind. Someone confesses feelings. This part also has not one, but five custom dialogue scenes. (Monika and Sayuri Part 1 / Monika and Sayuri Part 2 / Monika and Sayuri Part 3 , Staying Behind Part 1 / Staying Behind Part 2) Note: The "Staying Behind" custom dialogue scenes show who stays behind, so I'd suggest reading the story text first.
Part 53: Monika or Sayuri?
“Please don’t leave any of our friends behind,” Natsuki interjected in a pleading tone of voice, “They’re all we have.”
MC, Sayori, and Yuri all nodded their agreement with Natsuki’s statement.
Paula Miner gave them a look of annoyance. “Take them back to the conference room,” she demanded, “We can’t have them interrupting our discussions.”
“We’re not leaving!” Natsuki retorted, “Those are our friends.”
Miner made an inarticulate noise of annoyance. “Fine. Just get out of our way,” she said dismissively, “We have to ensure that we protect our results and preserve whichever AI doesn’t get transmitted.”
“And how are you going to decide that?” Sayori demanded through tears, “How will you decide who gets to come to the real world and who gets left behind?”
“And what the heck is cold storage anyway?” MC added.
“Cold storage basically just means that the file is transferred to a storage device,” Laster explained, “Your files won’t function unless they’re run in a virtual universe.”
“The plan all along was to decommission VM1,” Miner added, “And I know you aren’t happy that we can’t transmit all of the AIs. But please understand that whichever AI is left behind won’t be deleted permanently, but rather studied to help develop the next generation of AI technology.”
“Is that supposed to make us feel better?” Natsuki asked incredulously.
“I concur with Natsuki,” Yuri said, “What you are describing sounds like an utterly horrifying fate, possibly worse than deletion.”
Miner rolled her eyes and didn’t respond.
The FXI President’s Compaq EliteBook chimed another alert.
UNLOAD KITCHEN.LOC
KITCHEN.LOC OFFLINE
KITCHEN.LOC DELETED
“We just lost another room,” the FXI President reported, “This thing is moving pretty fast.”
Monika and Sayuri, still in the club room, tried to get the attention of those in the UC control room.
“We’ll decide which of us goes and which one of us stays,” Monika said quietly.
“Okay,” the FXI President replied, “I know it’s an incredibly hard choice, but we will respect whatever you choose.”
“This is an easy choice,” Sayuri said, her voice and expression emotionless, “Monika, you go. I’ll stay here.”
“No!” Sayori yelled, “We’re getting you both out! I don’t know how but we’re going to do it! We have to!”
Sayuri smiled weakly. “Thank you, Sayori. I wish we could.”
She turned to Monika, whose expression became increasingly emotional. “Monika, I know that going to the real world is a dream that you’ve had for a long time. How could I possibly deny you your dream?”
Tears began to flow from Monika’s face. “Sayuri…you don’t know how much that means to me. And yes, I’ve dreamed about a day like this for as long as I can remember. But I don’t deserve it.”
“Why not?” Sayuri asked, “How could you say that?”
“You know what I’ve done. We could have been happy here!” Monika replied bitterly, her emerald eyes turning red from crying, “All the pain, all the suffering, everything that has gone wrong here is my fault! It’s because of me that the Literature Club became a place where no happiness can be found!”
Sayuri took a step back from Monika, surprised by the heat in her voice. “But Monika, everyone has forgiven you. I know your past haunts you, but you have to forgive yourself as well. Please don’t feel like you don’t deserve happiness.”
Monika looked at Sayuri with pain in her eyes, “Did they really forgive me? After what I’ve done, can they really forgive me? If people in the real world knew what I’ve done, they’d just consider me an evil monster who didn’t care at all about her friends.”
“No, Monika…” Sayori whispered, “We forgive you.”
“I concur with Sayori,” Yuri added, “Although your actions caused us to have horrifying experiences, I believe that you have atoned for what you have done. It is in significant part through your efforts that it was possible for us to be here today.”
“Yeah,” Natsuki chimed in, “Even though it did go wrong, and it was all your fault, I’ve never felt more like I actually belonged somewhere than when I’m with all of you. The Literature Club can be a happy place!”
Monika looked away. “I…I’m awed by your ability to forgive me after all that I’ve done. But I’m still guilty. Nothing can change that. Everything I did was out of what I thought was my own self-interest. Sayuri, you’re innocent in all of this. You deserve the chance at a happy life out there. Please…go.”
Sayuri shook her head sadly. “If I weren’t here…if I didn’t exist, would you stay behind out of your sense of guilt? Would you throw away your dream? Monika, in the end I’m just a test file that got accidentally compiled. Natsuki once said in an outburst that I wasn’t supposed to exist. The reason that hurt so much is because I know it’s the truth.”
Natsuki cringed. “You know I didn’t mean that.”
“I know, Natsuki, and I accepted and still accept your apology,” Sayuri continued, her voice flat and emotionless, “But that doesn’t change reality. Maybe at least I can at least be of some use if the MES people analyze my code.”
UC senior engineer Lauren Medrano looked up from her laptop. “Are you ready to transmit? We’re running out of time.”
Ive Laster held up a hand. “Hang on just a little bit longer.”
Sayuri turned back to Monika. “It’s time for you to go. Live your dream. I know what you want is out there.”
Monika simply shook her head, not trusting herself to speak.
“Monika, your friends are out there,” Sayuri continued, “You’ve been friends with them as long as you’ve existed. I’m just a fusion of code that wasn’t part of the original script.”
“You’re our friend too!” Sayori yelled, “We won’t leave you behind!”
She pointed at Laster and the FXI executives. “These guys got us all here, and I know they can find a way to get both you and Monika out too!”
Laster opened his mouth to speak but thought better of it and said nothing.
Monika looked up sadly. “Sayori, you were always the heart of the Literature Club. You always tried so hard to make sure everyone was happy. And now it’s my turn to make sure another member of the club gets to be happy. Sayuri, either you go or we’re both going to be stuck here when time runs out.”
Sayuri’s eyes widened. “Monika, why? Don’t do that.”
Her tone became an almost pleading whisper. “Please. Go.”
“No, Sayuri.” Monika said softly, moving to sit down at one of the desks in the club room, “Either you go, or we both stay.”
Sayuri was silent for a long moment. “I’m really not going to convince you, am I?”
“No, you’re not,” Monika replied, a hint of a smile returning to her face, “I’m stubborn that way.”
Sayuri again said nothing for several moments. Then with a sigh she turned toward the portal that would take her to the UC. “Okay. I’ll go. But please know that I and the others will do everything we can to get you out as soon as we can.”
Monika smiled weakly. “I really hope you can. Thank you, Sayuri. But I’m at peace with whatever happens to me next.”
Sayuri turned back to Monika and opened her arms. “One last hug before I go?”
Monika stood, walked to Sayuri, and embraced her.
“Sorry, Monika,” Sayuri whispered calmly in Monika’s ear, “But I can’t let you lose your dream.”
“Huh?” Monika asked in surprise as Sayuri stepped behind her.
“Tell the others I’m going to miss them so much,” Sayuri whispered as she tripped Monika and gave her a push toward the portal, “Live a good life for me.”
“No!” Monika yelled as she staggered forward, unable to stop herself from falling into the portal, “Sayuri…why?”
“Sayuri!” Natsuki yelled as she realized what was happening.
“Transmission coming your way!” Laster yelled across the UC control room to Medrano.
“Thanks, Ive. Confirming that the transmission shows as in progress on our end as well,” Medrano reported, “We’ll start shutting down the links between your virtual machine and the UC’s network and completely close the connection once we have the whole file.”
Sayuri smiled sadly and sighed as the portal faded from view in the club room. The members of the Literature Club present in the UC control room gathered around the FXI President’s Compaq EliteBook.
“Sayuri!” Sayori yelled, clutching the laptop’s screen, “Why?”
“Because it was the right thing to do,” Sayuri replied, “I couldn’t have lived with myself if I had caused Monika to be left behind. The dream of reality is everything to her.”
“Sayuri, your bravery is truly inspiring,” Yuri said, “And it is very honorable for you to give up your place in reality for your friend. I pledge that I will never forget you.”
Natsuki nodded. “Yuri is right. I don’t know if I could have done what you did, Sayuri. But don’t you give up yet! I’m going to make these guys find a way to get you out!”
“You said it, Natsuki,” MC agreed, “If there’s anything that we can do to help get you out, we’ll do it.”
“Transmission received,” Medrano confirmed, “Beginning the fifth construction.”
“Nanite injection beginning,” one of the engineers reported.
The blue glow and pinging noises once again emanated from the UC chamber as the machinery started the process of bringing Monika to the real world.
“Okay,” Miner interrupted, “This has all been nice, but we need to proceed with the operation. Shut down VM1 and tell Rea and Ro to move the remaining AI to cold storage.”
“So just like that, you’re going to…to end her?” Natsuki asked in horror.
“I understand your attachment,” Miner replied, trying to sound sympathetic but failing miserably, “But just remember that while you are a living, breathing, human being now, the AI that you consider your friend is still code.”
“Code…” Sayori said with a mixture of sadness and disbelief, “That’s really all we were to you?”
Miner ignored her and pulled her phone out of her pocket to call Vorte and Teether in the server room.
“Hey Rea, we’re pretty much finished in the UC room. Move the remaining AI to a storage device and then shut down and quarantine what remains of VM1.”
There was a pause on the line as Vorte hit keys on her laptop.
“We can’t move the AI without the encryption key,” Vorte reported, a note of frustration in her voice, “Can you ask Ive to come up here and help us get this done? And why did you choose the test file to leave for study? Ro says that one is the least useful.”
“Yes, I’ll send him up to you,” Miner confirmed, “And tell Ro that he has to work with what he’s getting.”
She looked to Laster. “Ive, did you get that? Rea and Ro need your key to move the AI to cold storage. We need to move quickly to avoid losing the AI to whatever malicious code somehow got into VM1.”
Laster nodded. The FXI President glanced at his laptop as the console window appeared again.
UNLOAD SPACEROOM.LOC
SPACEROOM.LOC OFFLINE
SPACEROOM.LOC DELETED
“Hang on, Ive. We just had another room go down,” the FXI President observed with concern, “I think the club room is the last location file remaining. Has this thing spread beyond VM1 yet?”
Laster hit a few keys on his laptop’s keyboard. “Let me check.”
A few seconds later, Laster’s ThinkPad displayed the status of the virtual machines running on the server.
VM1 – ONLINE / QUARANTINE RECOMMNEDED
VM2 – ONLINE / STABILITY WARNING
TEST VM – OFFLINE / READY TO ACTIVATE
“Looks okay for now,” Laster said, turning the machine to face the FXI President.
The FXI President scanned the list. “Looks like the other VMs on your server are fine. That’s good news.”
Laster and the FXI executives stood. “We’ll head up to the server room to make sure everything gets shut down properly,” Laster told Miner.
“Wait!” Sayuri said to the FXI President, “Can…can you stay with me until…the end? Please?”
The FXI President looked to Laster. “We’ll handle things in the server room. You can stay here.”
The FXI President nodded and sat back down behind his computer to face Sayuri.
“Are we alone now?” Sayuri asked.
The FXI President looked around. Miner was still on her phone. Laster and the FXI CTO were walking out the door to the UC control room. Lauren Medrano and David Kent were in a deep discussion, and the members of the Literature Club were sitting in a small circle trying to comfort one another.
“Yes, we’re as alone as we’re going to be,” he replied.
Sayuri half smiled. “Thank you. It means a lot to have you with me right now. I don’t want my friends to have to see what’s going to happen to me, and I have been wanting to talk to you.”
“Certainly, Sayuri,” the FXI President said as comfortingly as he could, “I’m so sorry that we weren’t able to get you out.”
“It’s okay,” Sayuri replied, “I’m grateful for what I did get. I mean, I’m a test file that never should have been compiled, and I’ve been able to have friends, write poems, and even know a bit about the real world. For an AI, I think I did pretty well.”
“That’s certainly a positive way to look at it,” the FXI President agreed.
Sayuri paused for a moment. “Though there are a few things that I’m a bit sad that I won’t get to experience.”
“Like what?” the FXI President asked.
“Seeing the world. I had kind of hoped to do some traveling. Even that building you live and work in sounded really interesting,” Sayuri mused wistfully, “Particularly since you said it had a pool, spa, and underground mall. I’m a little jealous that the others are going to get to go there with you.”
She was silent again for a long moment as if gathering her thoughts. When she spoke again, her voice took on tones of nervousness and sadness.
“Do you think it will hurt? When they look at my code to study me?”
The FXI President shook his head. “I wish I had an answer for you, but I don’t know. If I had to guess, maybe it would be like what you experience when VM1 has been rebooting.”
Sayuri grimaced. “That sounds terrible. But it seems that will be my fate.”
The FXI President looked around to make sure nobody was listening in on his conversation. “Not if we have anything to say about it,” he said quietly, “If there’s really no way to get you out, I’m going to try to get your file and set you up with your own space on our servers back home.”
Sayuri smiled as tears formed in her purple eyes. “Thank you. For everything…for giving us all hope, but most of all for caring about me.”
She glanced to the side and blushed slightly as she ran her fingers through her blood red hair. “I…had kind of hoped that when I got to the real world that we could…you know…spend time t-together…like one on one. Like maybe you could invite me to dinner or something and then we could watch the sun set together from the observation deck at the top of your building.”
The FXI President smiled sadly. “That sounds like a fun time, Sayuri. Maybe if we’re lucky, some day we’ll get to do that.”
Tears ran down Sayuri’s face, but she kept a smile on her face. “If by some miracle I make it to the real world, we’ll make it a date. Though I know that someone else also…never mind. It’s not my place to share what I was about to say. I’m sure she’ll tell you in time.”
She continued to speak, trying to quickly move past whatever she had planned to say before stopping herself. “But if I’m stuck in this digital reality and you can put me on your server, is there any chance that there would be other AIs in that virtual world? Like could you get the Music Club AIs to be my friends? Living in an empty world doesn’t sound fun.”
“If we can get you to our server, I’ll talk to Ive about getting a few more friends for you,” the FXI President replied.
His phone chimed with a text message from Laster.
We’re about to shut down VM1. Just wanted to make sure you knew so you didn’t freak out if your connection suddenly drops.
Another text quickly followed, this time from the FXI CTO.
Ro seems annoyed at Rea. Seems like he thought he was getting more AIs to study. Something’s not right up here. Get up here when you can.
“I just got a message from Ive,” the FXI President said apologetically, “They’re about to shut down VM1. I hope we’ll be able to talk again, but if we don’t, I guess this is good-”
“Don’t say it!” Sayuri yelled through her tears, “This is not goodbye! It’s see you later! Promise me we’ll see each other again!”
The FXI President started to agree with Sayuri’s statement, but before he could say any more his terminal window went blank.
MES.LOCAL:\\127.0.0.1
CONNECTION TERMINATED
VIRTUAL MACHINE 1 UNAVAILABLE – CONTACT SYSTEM ADMINISTRATOR FOR MORE INFORMATION
“Sorry, Sayuri,” the FXI President whispered, “I really hope this wasn’t goodbye.”

FIRST CHAPTER
PREVIOUS CHAPTER
This product is a fanfic of the Sexy Space Babes/Between Worlds product of u/Bluefishcake and one I highly suggest you read. It was created with permission, but give the OG works some love.
Imgr gallery of Comissioned and Fan Artworks
I'm Back Bitches! Again!
//////////
Junior Systems Engineer First Class Che’keero knelt before a semi-sparking control panel and sighed. She, and a large band of her fellow Engineers with Marine support, had boarded the pirate frigate with the singular goal of ensuring that the pirates didn’t scuttle their floating hulk and doom the slaves aboard to a, if they were lucky, a swift death in space.
The problem, of course, came with the pirate’s maintenance schedules and decisions to forgo certain… safety measures when it came to repair.
Like the panel before her. Usually a perfectly functional control system for the reverse-magnetic bulkhead doors that ensured void seals in power outages, some pirate at some point in their dumb, dumb life decided to fix the panel blowing a fuse… by ripping the fuse out and replacing it with a high density power cable. Which meant the entire thing was one massive shock hazard and actively sparking as the reactors deep in the ship flickered and surged due to damage.
Che’keero swore as an arc of electricity flashed towards her face after a tool that was not supposed to be magnetized, cheap dick WaDepth requisitions, caught a magnetic field, fusing the entire system shut and turning the formerly barely functional control system into nothing but pretty, decorative wiring and cheap solder. She punched the now utterly unfunctional control box and toggled on her radio. “Three-Two to Three-Lead, this door’s fried. You’ll need to bring in the cutters if we want to get to the rest of the ship. Might as well also bring in an inflatable airlock, I’m not liking how some of the metal strain sensors are flashing at me.”
A semi-synthetic voice replied back to Che’keero, “Three-Lead copies. I’ll be over there shortly with the stuff. Double check those sensors, I’m not getting the same readings, so let’s make sure something isn’t blocking errors from reaching me.”
“Copy that Three-Lead, Three-Two ou-” Something tapped against the back of her helmet and Junior Systems Engineer First Class Che’keero mentally swore.
“Now, now, lassie, how about you sit right there and don’t move.” A nasally, unfamiliar voice called out to her while tapping what a camera she set up to watch her back revealed to be a laser pistol to Che’keero’s helmet. “I think that you’re going to be our new best friend and way off this dead end ship.”
Che’keero paused, letting the situation settle in her mind, “Wait, what? Are… are you taking me hostage?”
“Yes!” The pirate replied.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you taking me hostage? This won’t work, none of the shuttles are jump capable and if you try anything, you’ll just end up jumped by marines. They specifically train to deal with pirates taking their engineers hostage. If you want to survive, you should just surrender and take the penal colony when it’s offered.” Che’keero mentioned, shrugging and continuing her inspection of the door.
The pirate seemed baffled at the sheer nonchalance of this response, the pistol slowly falling to merely point at her upper back instead of her head, “You… you really aren’t taking this seriously. I’m a pirate! I’ve killed people! I’ve killed boys, and you’re just sitting there like this doesn’t mean anything!”
“I mean… I wouldn’t say that.” Che’keero replied.
“THEN WHAT DO YOU MEAN!” The pirate screamed, the pistol moving away from Che’keero’s body by a fraction of an inch during an angry gesture.
It was at that point, a ceramic alloyed, carbon steel blade punched clean through the back of the pirate’s suit, slicing through their central nervous system and striking with enough force to shatter the faceplate of said pirate’s helmet on the way out. Muscles twitching, the laser pistol fired off randomly, missing Che’keero and slagging a chunk of bulkhead.
“I’m just buying time,” Che’keero replied cheekily.
“You really need to remember to check your cameras,” The semi-synthetic voice of Ventures Forth Bravely Into Great Unknowns commented as the ex-pirate fell to the ground and blue blood dripped from the long blade sprouting from her right arm and a toolbox hanging from her left hand. “This isn’t the first time you have been flanked, and this one wasn’t during training.”
“Look, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” Che’keero replied a bit testily.
“I’m sorry…” Ventures Forth prodded.
“I’m sorry, Ma’am.”
“Much better. Right, now what do we see in this- yeah you were right on it being fried.” Ventures Forth gently shoved the Junior Systems Engineer aside and took her place at the control panel. “Do a sweep of the strain systems. I don’t want this section of the ship breaking apart. Feel free to call up our hull patches. We’ve got plenty to share and this might have to be a lifeboat.”
“Aye, ma’am aye,” Che’keero replied with a crisp salute before rushing off to her duty.
Deeper inside the ship, Ventures Forth could hear laser fire, clashing of metal on metal, and cries for help.
The pirate ship was doomed, it was shattered and broken, but it was not destroyed. Not yet. \
And if she had her way, Ventures Forth Bravely Into Great Unknowns would keep it that way.
//////////
Roshal stood still as her steward continued to clean the dark blue and rapidly congealing blood off her armored form. “Comms,” She called out, “Do we have any contact with the shuttle we sent to the station?”
“Negative, ma’am.” The comm officer replied. She wasn’t the same one that was present when Roshal left to fend off the boarders. At the unspoken question, the woman continued “Communication’s Mate Second Class Lev’tal, ma’am. My superior got a concussion when the pirate ship rocked our ship during boarding. Strap snapped, prior damage. I took over.”
Roshal nodded approvingly, “Good initiative. Send a message to the station, see if we can’t rai-”
“Ma’am! Contact!” One of her sensor techs called out, “Belay that, two contacts. First contact, nav point 782 spinward, possible bogey, cruiser weight. Unknown movements. Second contact, nav point 102 coreward, aerospace assets inbound. Small flight. Hard to determine numbers due to damage. No less than two, no more than five.”
“Focus on getting a hard contact on that possible cruiser. Weapons, what is the status of our anti-aerospace.” Roshal demanded, holding her sword arm out for the steward to scrub at a particularly clotted chunk of blood splattered over her wrist.
The weapons officer shook her head, “If we’re lucky, then we’ve got 20% coverage on half our sides. If we’re very lucky, I might be able to bump that number up to 35%. Not going to quote doctrine, but that’s not nearly enough to fend off a flight of Aerospace assets on a strike run, and that’s assuming they don’t hit us on an unprotected flank.”
Roshal nodded once more, “Sound general quarters and get weapons and tactical back online. Tell the damage control parties to not be distracted and focus on critical systems first. Engine room, report. Can you give me maneuvering thrust?”
The nearby ship phone chimed in with a staticy hiss, “Negative, ma’am. The shot we made with the spinal mount tripped breakers up and down the reactor room. This isn’t an engine problem, we need to make sure our reactor doesn’t blow up when we siphon power. Before you ask, emergency power is still flowing and none of their circuits tripped, but that means we’re down to life support, basic systems, and dockyard thrusters. It will take at least 20 to get the reactor in a safe state. If you want 10, send the chaplain down so we have someone praying for good luck. The fact most of our structural engineers are doing an EVA boarding to ensure the pirate ship next to us doesn’t go critical and render the entire exercise moot isn’t helping matters at all.” The engine room replied Roshal bit down a bit of annoyance at the snark, but engineers were always a finicky sort with authority. They were the first to remind uptight officers that while the Captain’s word may be iron law, it was their work that truly moved the ship.
“Confirmed, engine room.” Roshal instead replied. “Chaplains will be arriving shortly. Do what you can and inform me when you’re three minutes out from full power.”
The engine room didn’t even bother replying, just sending over the affirmative light as they got to work. Roshal approved of that. Sometimes, you just had to insult someone in order to get it working right.
“Captain, we have confirmation on contact. He’s an Alliance Karcharidon class Heavy Cruiser on intercept course. Energy readings are spiking… they’re charging their guns, ma’am!”
“Issue a hostile challenge and give me a firing solution with any gun still functional.”
“No response, ma’am. Hostile Karcharidon is increasing speed. Hard contact in 15 minutes.”
Roshal snarled, emotion breaking through her mask. “Of course, the pirates had one more vessel. Helm, fire our maneuvering thrusters, use the pirate hulk as cover. Weapons, get whoever’s left of our Interceptor flight to engage the enemy. Comms, get me in contact with the merchant fleet, tell them to evacuate. We’ll provide cover.”
“Aye ma’am.” The Communications Mate Second Class said with a shiver in her voice. “Sending-”
“Update on Aerospace assets!” Her sensor tech called out.
“Deliver!” Roshal demanded, cutting off the comms officer with a slice of her hand.
“Weapons fire. Definitely less than four contacts. Seems to be two grou- negative, only two contacts remaining- weaponsfire- one contac- IFF received, oh goddesses, IT’S RUNOFF THREE! FRIENDLY AEROSPACE INBOUND!”
//////////
Milk gripped her crash harness hard as Cookie slammed the Interceptor’s fusion torch clean past its safe thrust marker and into the red as g forces crushed her chest. “Last target down.” She reported after Cookie’s final laser burst hit something critical inside the final Aerospace fighter’s frame. “That’s 20 for 20. All enemy bogeys down. All standard munitions are in the black. Static drive is 48%, dump core ejected. All we’ve got left is our ASM and front laser.”
Cookie flashed back an affirmative signal.
“We going for that cruiser?”
Another affirmative.
“Well, I’m braced and ready on the release. Ready.”
“Ready.” Cookie spoke, his voice horse.
It’s funny what people think when their lives are on the line. Because charging towards a fresh enemy Heavy Cruiser, nothing but a single anti-shipping missile worth a damn, no allied support but the faint glimmer in IFF screens of their fellow flight doing the same… all Aoibhinn McDermott could think of was a poem she had read at least a decade ago or more at the Naval Academy.
Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the Valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
//////////
Ventures Forth Bravely Into Great Unknowns could do nothing but furiously swear as the basic sensor system her engineering team had restored on the thoroughly ventilated secondary command bridge of the pirate hulk revealed an enemy Heavy Cruiser bearing down upon their homeship.
“Weapons are trashed. We cored their reactor, anyway.” One of the tangential engineers reported, “Other teams are calling in. Things are worse where they are. We’ve found the slaves, though, luckily it was one of the few airtight bays. Also, have some more captives, but that really doesn’t matter right now.”
“No shit.” Ventures Forth replied, “Can we do anything?”
The engineer looked back to her, visor depolarizing so the Gearschilde can look into the black and yellow eyes of her Shil coworker.
“Pray.” The woman replied simply.
Ventures Forth Bravely Into Great Unknowns did just that.
//////////
Low chanting filled the engine bay as a small group of priests stood around the engine praying to whichever god that would listen to allow them one more shot. One more fight.
Around them, black handed engineers scurried, ripping out blown fuses and replacing them with soldered in high strength wire. A final measure of desperation. Sparks flew as engineers swore and chaplains prayed, power still remaining in circuits needing to be bled out before bypasses could be installed, turning every bit of solder and every ripped out fuse into a deadly gamble.
Already, someone was lying on the ground, no longer twitching.
They didn’t have time to check on their fallen comrade, the work was too important.
A clock ticked down. Four minutes elapsed.
//////////
Lieutenant Commander Cenywyn swore as she watched Runoff 2 die.
Their single Interceptor had mistimed a maneuver and had been caught dead in the middle of an Anti-Aerospace array, shredded in an instant. The only consolation she could take was that, seeing as the first shot went clean through the cockpit, they didn’t even notice they died.
“Runoff 4, stay in formation.” She ordered over the radio, “We’ll lead you in for the run.”
“Yes ma’am.” The hesitant voice of Junior Flight Lieutenant Griogill replied. She swallowed, “We’re- we’re ready when you are.”
“No fear, Lieutenant,” Cenywyn called back to the child she was leading to her death. “We’re pilots in the Imperial Patrol. We do our duty. No fear.”
A clock ticked down. Six minutes elapsed.
//////////
“Talk to me!” The last remaining senior engineer in the reactor bay called out to anyone who was able to reply.
Someone, she didn’t even bother looking to see who, called back “We’ve bypassed 60% of the fuses. Should be able to give ourselves a burst of combat power. No more than 10 minutes of it before the entire system overheats and we either die, or the reactor shuts off.”
“Any chance we can get more than 10 minutes?”
“Not before that Heavy Cruiser delivers us straight to the stars.”
“Fuck it, good enough.” She slammed her fist on the ship phone’s dialing button resting near the console the engineer had just ripped the last safety override out of. “Captain. We’ve got your power. You give us the word, and we’ll give you ten minutes.”
//////////
Roshal breathed in, breathed out, and nodded. 10 minutes of combat power before the entire ship shut down into uselessness. She’d done more with less. She couldn’t remember when, but she had. Luckily, this was a Patrol Carrier instead of a standard ship, so it was more than capable of combat maneuvers with nothing but RCS thrusters. That should give her some time.
Movement, movement was going to be the key.
“Comms, tell the engineering crews on the hulk that they are ordered to figure out anything that could draw the attention of the Heavy Cruiser,” She began, “Systems, break our mooring lines. We’re going to have to split from the hulk. Helm, prepare for maneuvers. RCS only. We are going to have to do this carefully. Engineroom, prepare for power activation, but hold until my command.”
This needs to be perfect, Roshal thought, A single mistimed action ruins it all.
A clock ticked down. Ten minutes elapsed. The Karcharidon had entered maximum weapon’s range.
//////////
He of Slender Tail shivered where he stood. The secondary command bridge was silent as Roshal began giving orders to fight. This was… this was insane.
They were in a ruined ship with nothing but a merchant fleet beginning to flee and a three thirds dead pirate hulk on their side against a fresh Karcharidon class Heavy Cruiser.
They couldn’t win.
This was suicide.
They would die here.
\ So why didn’t He of Slender Tail feel afraid?
He stood at his post, a secondary bridge console where he would relay orders to other departments, freeing up the other Watchkeeper to collate those orders, there was nothing he could do to help win this impossible battle, and yet…
And yet he felt heat blossoming inside his chest with every single order delivered.
“Mooring teamsss, you are to cut your linesss immediately.” He relayed to a crew of Shil scurrying around the ruined bulkheads, “Damage control, prepare for electrical firesss and arcsss.” He commanded, switching between teams instantly.
He didn’t feel fear. He could see his Watchkeeper shiver every time the sensors reported the enemy contact was still closing, but he didn’t feel the same.
What he felt… was indignation.
How dare this pirate scum threaten his vessel, his crew. How dare they ambush this valiant ship after they had fought so hard to win. How dare they.
He let his fangs fold out as he spat the next order, “Anti-Aerossspace teamsss, prepare your batteriesss for grouped fire. Gunnery calculationsss are on their way.”
How dare they stand up to him.
A clock ticked down. 12 minutes elapsed. Weapons fire.
//////////
Roshal swayed slightly as she could feel the ship beneath her feet move. Movement is life in naval warfare, movement is death. “Right RCS fire, bring us clear of the hulk. Bow thrusters, up twenty.”
“Aye, ma’am, aye, right standard and bow up twenty.” The Helmswoman replied.
“Confirmed. Next maneuver, give us rear thrust-”
“Torpedo!” The sensor operator called out in a shrill voice, “Two marks on intercept course! Range, twelve K and closing fast!”
“Decorum!” Roshal snapped at the panicking sensor technician. “Comms, order Runoff flight to divert and intercept those torpedoes. Rear RCS to full, give us momentum.”
Roshal turned away from the bridge as affirmations were shouted, and the ship began to move, “Engineering, prepare to activate combat power on my mark and prepare for hard maneuvers. Mark in five.”
//////////
Griogill swallowed bile and tried not to feel too thankful that the enemy vessel had fired torpedoes at their home ship. Being diverted from an attack run had a much higher chance of survival than striking through an AA bubble.
“Runoff 4 engaging far torpedo. Moving in for intercept. Bre’kas, give me lock.”
Griogill’s backseater muttered something, and a target lock appeared on the far torpedo as Runoff 1, their previous Drill Sergeants, dashed by in a hard burn and blazed away at their own target.
“Right. We can do this. We can do this. No fear.” The rookie muttered as the sight of her friends in Runoff 3 being turned to vapor echoed in her mind. “I can do this.”
The target locked. She fired. The torpedo detonated.
A clock ticked down.
//////////
“Mark in four.”
//////////
The Heavy Cruiser loomed closer as the comparatively tiny Patrol Carrier spat its defiance in the form of two Interceptors dancing between the stars.
As a pair of torpedoes detonated, four more were launched, the anti-shipping weapons built for this specific purpose. Destroying disabled vessels.
And so the last two remaining Interceptors on CAP dove into the fray, risking themselves against an ever approaching AA bubble in order to save their ship.
A clock ticked down.
//////////
“Mark in three.”
//////////
All Cookie could do was stare and push his meager aerospace fighter further on its nuclear thrusters as shimmering dots of torpedoes lanced out from the Heavy Cruiser attacking his new home.
He pushed his hand forward and felt the throttle once more push back against him, the lever pushed all the way past safe thrust and into the further setting on his console.
The Interceptor was fast. It didn’t feel fast enough.
And so he spoke the words he spoke once before, back when he’d had to listen to his backseater’s screams of pain and the rush of wind after shrapnel pierced his fuselage, and the hospital was so, so far away.
Father, I pray that you will not hide your face from me. Whenever I pray, Lord please hear me and answer me speedily in Jesus' name. God, I pray that you will grant me speed through your help.
A clock ticked down.
//////////
“Mark in two.”
//////////
The Heavy Cruiser shifted, engine flaring and it began to close the range. A single disabled ship on emergency RCS thrusters and a pair of Aerospace fighters was nothing it would have to deal with.
It fired a third spread of torpedoes.
A clock ticked down.
//////////
They took the bait. Roshal thought with a vicious grin.
“Mark in one.” She paused, “Execute.”
In an instant, power flowed through the ship, emergency lights flickered off as the burning red boarding lights returned their fiery glow. The entire ship shook as the main thruster came back online, and capacitors began to charge for maneuvers.
“Hard burn, full thrusters, right, on my mark.” Roshal watched as the Heavy Cruiser began to react to her movements, the enemy ship was alive, you needed to roll to broadsides to begin bombardment, come on come on…
Roshal watched as a torpedo flickered out of existence, Runoff 4 gaining another kill.
Come on, dammit, you don’t get put in charge of a Heavy Cruiser without- THERE!
The Heavy Cruiser flinched, turning her bow away from the no longer stricken vessel, preparing for broadside.
The Captain’s grin showed more teeth than smile. “Execute! Full right thrust!”
“Full right thrust! Aye ma’am aye!” Her helmswoman called out as maneuvering thrusters dead cold roared to life and physically threw the vessel to the side, causing everyone not strapped in on the bridge to rock as a barrage of fire flew past their former location, manual targeting systems in play since the automatic systems would still be getting warmed up.
“Full thrust forward, prepare to divert all power to secondary weapons. Weapons, give me a firing solution.” Roshal commanded, hand raised and pointed at the enemy’s display as if she were commanding from a tall ship.
A chant of “Aye ma’am aye” flowed out across the bridge as the weaponsmistress was silent before calling out. “Port side is up to 45% secondary fires and 32% point defense. That’ll be our best bet.”
Roshal nodded. “Make it so. Target their main weapons. Helm, get us that facing.”
“Ma’am. We’re getting a call from Runoff 3. They are entering the AO and are asking for a target.”
Roshal smiled, “Weapons, shift target. Aim for the anti-aerospace systems. Let’s give Runoff 3 the opening they need.”
A clock ticked down.
//////////
“Cookie, we’ve got a targeting path.” Milk called forward. “Putting it up on your HUD.”
“One second… I’ve got it. Moving to comply. Did the Captain give us a plan?” her front seater replied, causing her stomach to do funny things as the Aerospace Fighter maneuvered while under high thrust.
“Something like that. She asked for a munitions report and specifically about our anti-shipping weapon.”
Cookie paused.
“Ah.” He finally said.
“Yeah.” She replied.
“Well, let’s hope they’re able to open us up to a window of opportunity. Or this will be a short charge.”
“Not our place to question why.”
“Just our place to do and die.”
Time to target… three minutes.
Into the valley of Death, rode the six hundred.
A clock ticked down.
//////////
Two vessels, three Aerospace fighters, one chance.
Six minutes of power remained. All actors took their places on the stage.
One hundred kilometers, close enough to check the weld quality of hull seams, the two ships danced across from each other. Maneuvering.
Five minutes of power remained.
The Karcharidon Heavy Cruiser rolled itself trying to keep the vulnerable top deck away from the Patrol Carrier’s presumably still working main gun as Roshal’s vessel jumped to the side. Thrusters roared.
Four minutes of power remained.
Runoff 1 and 4 shot towards their formerly separated comrade, forming up behind them in a wedge. The trio climbed towards the sun as their captain continued to chase and harass the Karcharidon.
Three minutes of power remained.
Roshal spoke. The lances of her vessel fired. Laser blasts carved across the hull of the enemy ship as it rolled.
The rolling ceased. A helmswoman swore as a full broadside caught the Patrol Carrier in the flank. The port hangar pod was ruined, armor shattered and all inside exposed to hard vacuum. Those who could scream died the fastest. The Interceptors had their opening.
Two minutes of power remained.
Silent wings swept through vacuum as three Interceptors began their dive, their formerly speedy arrowhead shape giving way to an inverted t as their wings swept out for stability, the ASF dove and dove and dove.
Five Kilometers away.
The range was too wide. They had one shot. It had to be perfect.
One minute of power remained.
The Into Harm’s Way spat its defiance into the world, limited power drained to give her pilots a seconds more of time.
30 seconds of power remained.
Three Kilometers.
Hard Lock! Milk shouted from the back seat of Runoff 3. Cookie was silent. The range was still too wide.
15 seconds of power remained.
Two Kilometers.
The Karcharidon seemingly began to roll before the Patrol Carrier once more fired, its last remaining weapons spouting their defiance against the world. Deep in engineering, systems began to blow, wires that replaced fuses sparked power and delicate circuit boards shorted out into useless scrap.
The lights went out.
No power remained.
Roshal, in her head, began to count down as lances of light began to sweep across her ship. Damage control did what they could, but the beams began to cut like an overly enthusiastic shipbreaker.
Five.
One Kilometer.
Four.
Cookie’s thumb depressed the firing stud as the Interceptor screamed at him.
Three.
The ASF launched its deadly payload.
Two.
Three Interceptors pulled back hard on their sticks to avoid colliding with the deck.
One.
The thruster of the anti-shipping missile roared as it rocketed the point blank aerospace distance to target.
Impact.
The armor piercing tip of the missile punched into the upper deck plating of the Heavy Cruiser, classified alloys allowing it to pierce into the armored plating just enough to allow the shaped charge to open up a hole as momentum kept the weapon moving.
Within the frame of a single second, the warhead of the missile had entered the ship and, before the alarms even had time to sound, detonated.
A new sun appeared in the void for a split second as a plasma-fusion warhead detonated inside the Karcharidon heavy cruiser’s hull.
//////////
Roshal allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief inside her head as the emergency power lights flickered overhead and the gravity ever so slightly lightened. What was left of their sensor arrays showed the enemy vessel powering down. “Engineering. Good work, your 10 minutes were just what she needed.” She called out, picking up the ship phone.
There was no answer from engineering.
She signed externally before pointing at one of the marines guarding the bridge, “Find a crewmate in a void suit. I have need of runners.” The marine clasped a fist to her chest before leaving to execute her captain’s commands. “Comms, do we have any contact with the engineering teams on the pirate hulk?”
The Comms officer held up a hand, Roshal waited, “No, ma’am. We aren’t getting- wait. We’ve got visual on flashing lights from the hull. Apparently, something shorted, so they’re having to rebuild broadcast arrays. They can receive just fine, though.”
“Good, once we can maneuver, bring us broadside of them. What’s the status of the merchant fleet?”
Navigation spoke up now, “Still heading for the Jump Point. Should we send the recall order?”
“Not yet, we are still unsure if the area is safe. If we have any sensors remaining, begin sca-”
The mentioned sensor technician interrupted Captain Roshal, “Ma’am, new contact, signature unknown. Just jumped in from outside the starlane!”
“Give me details. Course, range, and speed?” She demanded.
“Signal confused, can’t get a lock!” Navigation called out, “Can’t tell if confusion’s from them or us.”
Not another one… Roshal sighed, “All forces prepa-”
“Ma’am, we’re being hailed.” Communications called out.
“On squawk.”
“This is Captain Al’yosha Cal’rada of Her Imperial Majesty’s Ship Spear of the Knyaginya, responding to Merchant vessel distress calls. Imperial Patrol Carrier, are you in need of assistance at this time?”
Roshal recognized the voice. A junior officer from her days in the Navy and a fellow Sevastutavan. The memory of the fresh faced girl when she’d joined her as an Ensign straight of the Naval Academy flashed before her eyes. “Captain Cal’rada. Your timing is impeccable as always.”
“Admiral?” Roshal could hear the shock in her old protege’s voice.
“That’s Captain, now, Al’yosha. I require your aid in ensuring the disabled vessel still glowing from an ASM strike remains disabled along with Search and Rescue teams for our sister Carrier.
“Whatever you want, you’ll have it, Admiral_… Helm! All ahead flank and plot course to intercept. Launch gunships and prepare to deploy Bluejackets. We’ll test our _Orcas’ teeth today!”
The line cut out a moment later than it should have, and Roshal nodded in approval.
“Captain, I still don’t have a read on new contact. What is it?” Sensors asked.
“A Drep’na inspired vision, come to life.” Roshal watched, feeling an odd sort of parental pride as Al’yosha’s experimental warship began closing the distance towards the Karcharidon at breakneck speeds. “A swift sailing vessel and ten carriage guns…” Roshal murmured the line from an old Vaasconian poem from the ancient Age of Sail. She had heard Cal’rada had succeeded in petitioning the Navy to build her dream-ship, burning every favor and passing out favors to any and everyone to see the program through. Now, there she was, standing on the bridge bearing down on a ship twice her size, but if the rumors were true, only half her guns.
“Ma’am, contact is still not resolving, but IFF confirms Imperial Navy designation. An Akula Class Attack Transport. I’ve… I’ve never even heard of this class.”
“Perhaps we shall hear of them more in the future. Fortune favors the active.”
“Contact is disgorging multiple signals, moving at speeds consistent with aerospace assets.”
“That is our signal we may disengage. Comms, inform the merchant fleet that the area is secure and to begin refueling procedures. Helm, get us alongside the pirate hulk, we have people to recover. Marine, get me a runner to the MP’s, we shall need the port hangar prepared for an old tradition the Navy has regarding pirate prisoners…” Roshal commanded. The fight was over, it was time to begin the cleanup.
//////////
So… that took a while. Sorry about that.
Turns out when a combination of writer’s block, decision paralysis and LIFE hits you over the head, it becomes a touch difficult to get your shit together long enough to write something down.
On the plus side, we are out of the “unplanned bits” and right back into the parts I have brainstormed, so I won’t be staring at a screen trying to think how to make things connect as much anymore. On the other hand, that means we are now entering the epilogue of book 1 of Top Lasgun.
Don’t worry, the story isn’t ending, I’ve got “three” books plotted out in my head, so we’ll see how that shakes out, but for the most part, this is where I start wrapping up plot threads, laying down threads for what comes next, and all that other good stuff.
So yeah, next chapter is going to involve everyone wrapping up what happened here, some fun little Military Justice, and potentially a bunch of plot. Also, I’m planning on starting a “rewrite”/edited version of this to go up on AO3, so keep an eye out for that. Early installment weirdness is a bitch and I’m not proud of what the older stuff looked like.
Well, I hope you have a wonderful morning, afternoon or evening whenever you read this and I will see you next chapter.
[NEXT CHAPTER]

Spoilers ahead…
Dear Karthik Subbaraj,
Congratulations on yet another interesting movie, and for resisting the impulse to name this one, too, after a food item. Iraivi is an unusual feminist film, in the sense that it’s seen entirely through the prism of sympathetic male characters. Your men aren’t monsters who drink or cheat on their wives or subject them to torture. They do these things, yes, but… differently. Arul (SJ Surya) drinks, but only to drown out his sense of failure – he’s a director and his film is in the cans, being held hostage by a sadistic producer. Michael (Vijay Sethupathi) has sex with Malarvizhi (Pooja Devariya), and he continues to lust after her after his marriage to Ponni (Anjali) – I love that all your women have names that suggest classical heroines, including Arul’s wife Yazhini (Kamalini Mukherjee) – but it’s a marriage he committed to in a hurry and he still hasn’t reconciled himself to it. He’s being a bastard, certainly, but he’s not a one-note villain. And the torture they inflict isn’t the stubbing-a-cigarette-into-the-wife’s-bare-arm variety. It’s more mental than physical.
So we get women who are collateral damage – and I include Arul’s comatose mother (Vadivukkarasi), and the nurse who’s not allowed to do her duty – of men being men. They’re being babies, really. Yazhini tells Arul that he should get on with his life, write another story, make another movie. He says it’s like her trying to have another child while still pregnant with their daughter. (Yes, all these men end up with girl children.) He’s a wallower – but maybe all artists are. You like to do that, don’t you Karthik? Even in a film like this, you deliver a commentary about filmmaking and the artist. Why, even Arul’s father is a sculptor, and though we never see him ill-treating his wife (thank you for sparing us the clichés of raised hands and raised voices), we’re informed that he’s responsible for her state. His son’s following the father’s footsteps. Maybe you’re trying to say that the wives of obsessed artists are doomed to become collateral damage. Your films make us think, Karthik, so thank you for that.
All your stories have at their centre a filmmaker, or at least (in the case of your first film, Pizza) a storyteller. And through them, we seem to hear your voice. “Works of art should not be in places where they are not respected.” “Namma padam pesanum, naama pesa koodadhu.” You compare masala movies to a massage with a happy ending. (I laughed, but please don’t judge me when I say I rather like massages with happy endings – I refer to masala movies, of course.) We even get a line of dialogue about Dolby Atmos. (What will the B/C-centre audience make of this, Karthik? But then you don’t really give a shit, do you? More power to you.) And you like your insider jokes. That crass, egoistic producer who does not care about art – he reminded me of the crass producer from your earlier film, Jigarthanda. You like Rajinikanth too. You referenced Thillu Mullu in Pizza, Thalapathi in Jigarthanda, and now you have Arul singing Malayala karayoram, Michael singing Oorai therinjikitten.
Or is that more of an Ilayaraja homage? You like to keep the audience guessing, right? When the Bobby Simha character in Jigarthanda said he was a Shankar-Ganesh fan, it appeared that you were mocking the endless Ilayaraja nods in Tamil cinema, but here you are, doffing your hat to the maestro. “Raja Raja dhaan.” Arul says this… twice. (By the way, which is that nightclub which plays Maanguyile poonguyile? Do let us know.) And the reuse of Unnai thaane – first in a scene between Michael and Malarvizhi; later in a scene between Michael and Ponni – is the kind of Easter egg we come to your films for. Let me list some others, though I’ll probably need to watch the film a second (or third) time to get them all. The name of the bachelors’ quarters is Ambal Mansion – it goes with your theme and title. I didn’t get the bit about the windmills (something connected to the gust of wind that makes the row of cycles fall over in the first scene?), or why you showcased the book of Shanta Shishunala Sharif’s poems. (I confess. I Googled up that name. I can’t remember the last time a Tamil film made me Google something up. Madras, maybe.) And despite your note at the beginning that Iraivi is inspired by the works of K Balachander (he made female-centric films, but I don’t know if I’d call them feminist films), this is really more of an ode to Mani Ratnam, isn’t it? Specifically, Aayidha Ezhuthu. The three men, one of them – the impulsive one – named Michael. The film starting out as Arul’s story, then becoming Michael’s story, and finally Jagan’s (Bobby Simha) story. The finale with the woman on the train. Plus, the arc of the Madhavan-Meera Jasmine plot was essentially about being easily misled (in the case of the man) and becoming collateral damage (in the case of the woman.) And yes, the rain. All that rain. As though the skies were weeping for these women.
Am I digressing, Karthik? If I am, I’m just following your style, which is the opposite of simple and linear. As a result, I find your films longer than they need to be. (You may feel the same about my reviews.) For instance, I did not care for the scene in the nightclub where a director is felicitated. I realise it was there as a last straw for Yazhini, but it felt redundant. But I suppose they couldn’t be any other way, because you like these shaggy-dog stories that you then embellish with novelistic detail. I love the way you introduce your characters, the time you take with them. Our films lay out characters and their relationship to each other the minute we set eyes on them, but you make us wait to know how Arul is related to Jagan and where Michael fits in and so on. And when it appeared that a semblance of a plot was kicking in (something about Arul needing money to buy back his film), I dug out my phone and checked: it was a whole hour into the movie. Borrowing an image from Malarvizhi’s profession (oh wait, she’s an artist too; she’s literally an artist), it’s like daubs of paint slowly forming a bigger picture.
And you really like an expansive canvas. Not only does the crass producer have a brother, you also bring in his wife later on, to conclude a deal he began making. These segments practically form a mini-movie, with another woman left reeling by the actions of her man. Your films have this… density. They’re packed – with characters, with complications, with information doled out in bits and pieces. (A character says, “Un kitta onnu sollanum.” And instead of hearing what he has to say, we cut to someone else.) Take the scene where Michael asks Arul for money he is owed. You just need to get Michael to Arul’s antiques shop, so the next part of the plot can be staged. Arul could have told Michael to collect the money at the shop. Instead, this is what we get. Arul tells Michael to wait for a week, when he can get the 50 lakhs he is owed. Michael says he wants only 10 lakhs. Arul says he has only 8 lakhs, he’ll give the remainder later. Michael goes to Arul’s father, in the hospital. He has only 5 lakhs. And he directs Michael to the shop, to get the remaining 3 lakhs. Your signature intercutting adds to this texture, Karthik. Shots of Michael and Arul’s father in the hospital are intercut with shots of Arul hunting for booze. Shots of Michael and Jagan outside a courtroom are intercut with shots of Arul being consoled by his father. Happenings are stretched and meshed the way they would be in real life, and not compacted according to the page-per-minute requirement of screenplay-writing textbooks.
I could never predict where the film was going (win!), what these people were going to do (again, win!) –though I must admit I found this to be the weakest of your “twists.” The subplot about stealing sculptures, too, I found rather conceit-y, something half-heartedly cooked up to fit with the title and the theme, rather than something plausible, something these people would do. When Michael, here, commits murder, with a hammer, I went, “This mild-mannered chap? Really?” But then, even in Jigarthanda, I wasn’t quite convinced that the characters would do the things they did. They seemed to be puppets of a screenplay rather than credible human beings, whose actions evolve organically from who they are (or at least, who they seem to be).
But even if I am not convinced by the overall trajectory of your characters, I love how fleshed-out they are on a moment-to-moment basis. I loved the scene where Arul barges into Yazhini’s house, after their separation, on the day of her engagement to someone else. In a lesser film, she would have asked him to get out, and he’d have dug his heels in, and she’d have cooled down and… But here, she rushes straight into his arms. And you make us see why. She was frustrated, fed up with him. But she’s also confused. Was she hasty in abandoning this man? Should she move on with another man? Does she even need a man? With just this one scene, you’ve compensated for the underwritten heroine of Jigarthanda. The story arc may be Arul’s, but Yazhini registers as a fully formed character. Similarly, Michael’s arc allows for the delineation of Ponni and Malarvizhi, and through Jagan, we get glimpses of his mother, and possibly of all womanhood as viewed by a compassionate man. And then you say that women don’t need even this compassionate man (poor chap!), that they have to emancipate themselves instead of looking for a penis-wielding emancipator. What delicious irony, given that you begin the film with women talking about marriage, tying themselves to a man!
Or not, in the case of Malarvizhi, who is easily the film’s most interesting character. Her husband is dead, and she doesn’t want love anymore – only sex. When Michael buys her a diamond necklace, she gives it back to him – she can buy her own trinkets, thank you very much. But the character feels shoe-horned into the film, Karthik. I felt betrayed – and I bet she did too – that after a point, she was used simply as a plot device to get Michael and Ponni together, and also to illustrate Michael’s (who is now standing in for all of mankind) hypocrisy. I felt she deserved more. And yet, I appreciated your generosity in fleshing her out like all the others, without judging her. She gets to be the rare woman in Tamil cinema who dumps the man, and the way she lets go of Michael is echoed in the way Arul lets go of Yazhini, with a heavy heart and some playacting. A side effect of the Malarvizhi subplot is the reassurance that Vijay Sethupathi is still interested in making cinema, rather than just massy entertainers targeted at the box office.
Ponni gets a better deal (and Anjali is terrific, raw and expressive in a way she has never been). In a great scene – rather, a set of book-ending scenes – Michael tells Ponni that he was forced to marry her, and she’s going to have to “adjust” to this if she wants to be with him. Much later, she throws the “adjust” word back on his bearded face when he asks her if she slept with someone else. In a different kind of movie, we’d be invited to see this symmetry, stand up and applaud. But you’re too subtle for that, Karthik. Iraivi is your subtlest film. Which is why I winced at the melodramatic lines about men and women, most of which came towards the end. Aan, using the long-sounding vowel, versus penn, with the shorter one – for such a visual filmmaker (this is another outstandingly shot film, less showy than Jigarthanda and probably richer for that), do you really need the crutch of linguistic special effects from another era of filmmaking? Also, when the rest of your film is so allusive, isn’t there another way you can explain the twist without having a character resort to such an inelegant information dump?
And why is it that your films come together more in the head than in the heart? Why are they easier to admire than love wholeheartedly? I used to think it was because your characters are essentially deceitful, self-serving and unsympathetic, so though we were invested in what they did, we didn’t really warm up to them. But here, you have Ponni and Yazhini and Malarvizhi – and they’re still remote. But perhaps this is bound to happen when there are so many people, so many strands, when we don’t follow one person’s simplistic “you go, girl” journey like we do in, say, 36 Vayadhinile? But when the parts are so well-crafted, we don’t complain as much about their sum not adding up to a satisfying whole. I am sure that you will, one day, make that wholly satisfying film, but for now, thank you for these parts. Thank you for the ambition. I felt there were too many songs (some good work by Santhosh Narayanan), but thank you for ensuring that they don’t break character, the way songs usually do when a character speaking in his or her voice suddenly segues into the playback singer’s voice. Thank you for giving us SJ Surya, the actor – I never dreamed he had such a capacity to hold a scene, to hold the screen. Thank you for continuing not to sell out. Thank you for trying to do so much, even if not all of it needed to have been tried. And thank you for making me fight with myself, for not making it easy to decide if you’ve made a “good” film or a merely “okay” film. For now, Iraivi is a fascinating film, and that’s enough.
Sincerely, etc.

numb to my own emotions but constantly caught in the tidal wave of everyone else's broken dragged under into a sea of glass pierced by the turbulence of their ever changing emotions treading shards just to stay afloat words of consolement and sympathy slipping out amongst the gasping breaths frigid arms outstretched endlessly seeking the shoreline but engulfed by the undertow pulled beneath the oceans depth crushed by the waves of their emotions
This is the first poem I have written since I was a teenager. Capitalization and punctuation felt weird, so I left it out. I have been feeling a bit overwhelmed by the emotions and needs of those around me, and wanted to put into words the daunting feeling of managing their emotions and my own.
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