How to finger oneself in the dark
Tales to tell in the dark
2015.04.20 08:40 SmellsLikePennies Tales to tell in the dark
An immersive subreddit aimed at telling horror stories to an audience that play along with them, aimed at good scares and good fun, welcoming of new and old tellers of tales alike.
2013.01.20 21:06 Dark Souls 3
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2012.02.28 11:59 CriticallyChallenged A guide to gaming in India
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2024.05.29 02:35 Nemo__404 Deathworlders Should Not Be Allowed To Date! [Ch. 36/??]
first
Luna VI query: Set the source to the translation logs of Princess Amara Auralyn.
No problem!
Luna VI query: Narrate Amara's plan to flee from the war.
***
The moment Amara's nose caught the scent of that little puff of smoke ascending from Nathan's damaged equipment, she suspected something terrible had happened. Her lack of understanding of the nature of this particular piece of human tech was unimportant. Just from knowing the fact that this was one of the few items Nathan had rushingly retrieved was more than enough for her to infer its importance.
His extremely negative reaction to its destruction also hadn't escaped her notice.
Amid the ragged bursts of breath and droplets of sweat running down his face, he stared at the smoking piece of equipment on the ground as he cursed. Then he stood up in a huff, pulling his hair as if trying to remove it from his scalp.
With the object source of their distress in between herself and Nathan, she asked a question that she already knew the answer to. "Was that the device you would use to request help?"
Nathan was breathing too fast to speak properly. "What else could. It be."
His confirmation was the last straw for her to close her eyes, allowing all the emotions she'd been suppressing to be manifested, like a multi-colored river flowing among her black spots.
When she opened her eyes again, she and Nathan were already locking gazes, him bending his head forward as he used his knees to support his upper body, while she stood upright with her head at the same vertical level as his.
Amara felt a shared sense of anger at the situation between them, but she was also afraid that Nathan’s anger was more targeted at her than at the situation.
It took some courage for her to speak first.
"Do you have other means for contacting your people?" She knew it was unlikely he had that, but it was still a question worth asking.
"The radio transmitter was being jammed. I didn't think of bringing it with me." He was recovering his breath fast. "What about you? There is that earpiece, and yesterday you had that AR visor on all day."
"The communicator in my ear is short-ranged. As for the AR visor..." She struggled to tell the truth, but she still did it. "I hid it inside a hole in a tree and forgot it."
"A hole? In a tree? Are you kidding me?"
The truth was that Amara hid it before entering Nathan's tent on the previous night. She had certain expectations and didn't want to be interrupted by the notifications.
But of course, she would never admit that.
"See any pockets?" She extended both hands and put her tail beside them, showing she had nowhere to store the items.
"Oh… sorry. Sometimes I forget our differences."
Nathan believed her so easily that she felt a little bad for him, but not bad enough to waste their precious time with unnecessary talking. "Even should I go alone, I fear I cannot retrieve our devices. I would just get killed or captured for nothing. We cannot stay here either because soon they will follow your trail; we need a plan."
She was certain the only reason the enemies hadn't followed them yet was because they had underestimated Nathan's ability to run.
"I wouldn't let you go back there even if you wanted to, Amara. But at least you are thinking now." He touched his chin, his eyes wandering around. "And yeah, we need a plan."
Unknowingly to Nathan, his words had caused Amara to drift away. And it was not because of him saying he wouldn't allow her to return, but because of his mention of the fact that she wasn't thinking before.
And this had affected her deeply because she utterly agreed with him.
By noticing how differently Ryo and Elysira had handled the same situation before they had fleed, Amara had reflected about how poorly she had reacted to the war. She was guilty of thinking about this more than just a little while Nathan was putting in all the effort to take her away from danger.
She traced back her mistake to a single moment—when Nathan had told her his list of reasons why they couldn't be together. This was when she had allowed her heart to be poisoned with rejection, which by morning had spiraled out of control by the dreadful reportings she had received, and finally, it had culminated in her emotional response to the crisis.
Which curiously Nathan had later fixed by his total commitment to staying together.
Amara found all of that pathetic.
This time she set her priorities straight as she suppressed her detrimental feelings in favor of reason. "We could trek parallel to the mountain and find a cave to hide until the elders send help."
"How long would that take?" He asked.
His questions triggered a long chain of assumptions in her mind. She first considered the political situation after the disruptive assassinations in the capital, and then the logistics of the deployment of reinforcements.
But Amara discarded the whole plan when she tried to envision how long it would take for her allies to find them in the darkness of the forest, realizing how flawed her suggestion was.
Displaying red, she said, "Help will be here today, yet the war on the ground will turn into a slow spot-and-kill conflict. My thoughts must still be clouded. To hide in the mountains is a death sentence; the rebels would have a better idea where to search for us than my allies would."
Nathan touched his face and shook his head at her admission. Without fully understanding what he was doing, she watched him approach a young tree and stare at its bark as his right arm tensed.
Before she could ask a single question, he punched the rough bark, dislodging some wood from the brittle surface and making it fall.
He said, "I'm such an idiot. Now our only option is to keep running and I didn't even bring the water."
She was taken aback by his reaction.
It was true among her species that the males could be more aggressive under stressful situations. But to go as far as hunting themselves against a tree? This was something she hadn't seen before nor she could understand.
What would she do now?
Of all her priorities, communicating with him was very high on her list. This went much beyond certain feelings she had, being directly linked to their survival. Remembering how Ryo and Elysira had handled the same situation before they had fled, she couldn't help but feel like she and Nathan were still failing at this.
Following more instinct than reason, Amara decided to approach him as the red on her skin gradually gave way to purple at every step she took.
When he was within tails reach of her, she spoke.
"I cannot read your thoughts much less can I see your feelings, but I presume that similar to me you can also sense that we failed today, am I wrong?" Nathan pursed his lips and didn't reply, leaving her at a loss for a moment. Yet she didn't give up and wrapped her tail around his wrist, raising his scraped knuckles for him to see. "Why have you done this?"
"I..." He averted his eyes from the wound, relaxing his arm. "This ain't me I swear Amara. It's just-"
"The drones are coming." She was forced to shut him up with her tail to confirm what she heard in the background while he was speaking. After adjusting the angle of her ears she added, "At least three."
Seeing Nathan's face contort from one weird expression after the other, she could only feel regret and anger that she was forced to interrupt him. But as long as they were alive they could always talk more later.
"Great!" He took a deep breath and lowered his back for her to climb. "Let's see how far I can go without water."
"No." She could hear the drones advancing slowly, likely searching for places where they might have hidden, underestimating how far Nathan had taken her. "I do not doubt you can run more, but there is no point in running unless we can lose them. Can you do what Ryo did and destroy them?"
He didn't look at her as he replied, "I could try, but I don't have whatever aim improving add-on the military gave him, much less the years of training."
"Can I borrow your loud gun then?" Amara had a seed of a plan in her mind, a risky and reckless plan but still better than doing nothing or engaging in more random running.
"What? Do you have any idea how hard is to shoot those things down?" Nathan took her request so badly that he lifted his body again to explain more. "Your species may have precise movements and all, but this revolver needs more than just aiming, there's the recoil, reloading, and I bet it hurt your ears; besides I doubt you can do better than me without having taken a single shot with one of our guns your whole life."
Nathan was not wrong.
No matter how hard it felt to admit it to herself, the truth was that she was not a frontline fighter. She could bring order. She could weed out traitors. She could give directions. But taking a gun and firing at the enemies? Even a gun crafted by her species was something she lacked experience using.
Still, the way that he expressed his doubt without even hearing what she had in mind made her quite angry. It was nothing close to the feeling of rejection from the night, but it was still enough to encourage her to double down on her idea.
"I do not intend to shoot the drones from far away like you humans do." Amara pointed at the canopy of the young tree beside them and waited for him to look up before she added, "I want to ambush them from a close distance."
His eyes widened, but Nathan still wasn't convinced. "That's dangerous Amara. What if you miss it? You'll just let them know where we are for nothing. And even if you don't miss the shots can’t they just send more drones?"
"You speak reason, but my goal extends beyond destroying them. I know how brother and my species think and I want to mislead them." Amara did her best to let him know her intention. "You will have to be my bait too, and we will need to run as fast as we can towards the valleys once I destroy them. I would explain everything if there was time, but right now you will have to trust me."
"You want to go to the valleys..." He spoke in a low voice as he scratched his head.
Seeing that he didn't straight up reject her idea this time, Amara went on for the last push, showing a forced hint of yellow to try and sound confident. "No sane individual would go to the valleys without equipment and a large group, my brother and his army will never consider searching for us in there."
She regretted her wording as soon as she was done speaking, afraid she might have scared Nathan who was taking his time to reply.
But before she could say anything more, Nathan started loading his gun and when he was done he used his thumb to lower a little lever. "You have to pull this thing down each time before pulling the trigger, but I guess you saw me doing it enough times already." He then undid his action before offering the gun to her as he held it by the muzzle. "Don't forget to hold it with all your might or the recoil will hurt you."
She considered saying some words to let him know how much his trust meant to her, but the drones were approaching and there were more important things to say. Her tail simply coiled around the gun, and she took it as the weight of the task ahead caused the object to feel heavier than it was.
She considered if she should ask for more ammunition, but concluded she wouldn't have time to reload, which she knew was bad despite making things significantly easier.
"Go there and make it convincing that you are absolutely exhausted, can you?" Using her tail, Amara pointed at a bright spot on the ground, where a beam of blue light was making its way from the canopies to the ground. "This is important Nathan. The operators must believe you reached your limit, they must report to my brother that you cannot run much longer."
"This won't be too hard." His lips curled into a hint of a smile. "But are you sure they don't use AI instead of operators to guide the drones?"
"Only you humans are crazy enough to disregard the only law the alliance enforces." She started climbing the tree with each of her clawed hands poking holes into the bark from a different side, but when she was already above Nathan, she looked below. "I am counting on you. We made too many mistakes today, one more and it might not be forgiven."
"I'll do what you asked, okay? Just hit the drones and don't fall from the tree." He said before running towards the spot she had instructed him.
With each of them agreeing on their role, Amara kept climbing the tree, finding little difficulty in her initial task. This was so easy that almost all of her attention was focused on tracking the spinning blades of the drones, which were constantly approaching at a speed that suggested they were doing a minute inspection of the ground.
It was only when she was already high above that she noticed the first problem.
If she wanted the advantage of shooting the drones from the same plane they were approaching, Amara would either have to give up a hand for the aim, or she would have to compromise her camouflage by wrapping her legs around the tree to help her tail to hold her body.
Neither of the options was ideal, but doing nothing was even worse, which led her to choose to sacrifice some of her ability to aim in favor of a tighter grip, ensuring that her legs kept hidden behind the trunk as she pressed each of her clawed fingers of her left hand against the rough bark for a secure hold.
Feeling a burning anxiety like she never felt before, she transferred the gun from her tail to her right hand and surrounded the tree with her now free tail to improve her grip even more.
She then turned her head and took a final glance at Nathan and confirmed he was stooping down and breathing loudly, exactly on the spot she had asked him to go.
Now everything was ready.
Amara hid the gun in between her belly and the tree as her whole body mimicked the brownish color of the bark, even her tail and hair transitioning from their typical blue to a copy of the textured color surrounding her.
Her eyes closed and only a mental representation of her surroundings remained, being especially accurate this time as if her her body knew there was no room for mistakes.
As the seconds passed, her heart rate slowed down and her awareness peaked. Of all her body, only her long ears slightly moved as the positions of the three drones became less foggy in her mind the closer they got to her.
The fact that one of them suddenly stopped moving right in front of the tree was something she expected, that being the exact moment its sensors had found Nathan on the ground.
Instead of attacking, Amara waited.
And almost envisioning the exact conversation the operators were having behind their visors, she gauged the time they took to communicate among themselves by observing how long the other two drones had taken to start moving closer to the one that had spotted Nathan first.
This wasn't a lot of time, which put into perspective how fast she would have to act in order to prevent the other two drones from repositioning after the first one was destroyed.
Her heart was beating slowly and her mind was focused; the chances of the targets getting closer were no different than that of them getting more distant.
Somewhere inside she could feel it—now was the perfect moment for her attack.
Amara's eyes snapped open and her heart rate multiplied by nearly threefold, preparing her for intense exertion. The muscles of her left arm propelled her body sideways, taking her head away from the protection of the tree trunk. That happened at the same time that her clawed finger pulled down the little lever, just like Nathan had taught her.
Her eyes locked first on the most distant target, which was not further away from her than twelve meters, and her right arm moved accordingly, raising the gun as her clawed finger slipped into the trigger.
She knew how painful to her ears the noise would be, yet she still forced her eyes to stay open as she pulled the trigger.
Except, she flinched at the last moment and ended up missing the target because of it.
Now her ears were ringing and the number of targets was the same, fueling her fury for the next shots she fired in a quick sequence.
It took three more attempts to destroy the furthest target, turning her fury into apprehension.
And apprehension quickly transitioned into despair when, after destroying the middle target with two shots, she pulled the trigger aiming at the closed drone, only to hear an empty click.
The drone rotated towards her and she also felt Nathan's gaze in the distance, screaming something that she was too numb to understand.
Would she be the reason for their demise?
Just the thought of how happy her brother would be for seeing her so helpless was more than enough of a reason for her to not accept that.
So at the lack of bullets, she spitefully threw the gun at the spinning blades.
And when the outcome of her desperate action did little more than cause the drone to lose control for a few moments, she still refused to give up and pounced on it as if she were a trained huntress.
If Bhaela could jump from a tree and dig her claws into the veins of an Oczoil from high above and survive to tell the tale, why couldn't she do the same with a little drone?
Her confidence only lasted until no part of her body was touching the tree and her limbs contacted the blades, causing a sharp pain, which she promptly forgot as flesh and machine plummeted together.
Amara tried to use her tail and arms to cushion the fall, but unlike Bhaela graceful performance, all she achieved was her belly smashing the drone against the ground before her arms and head split the kinetic energy from the fall.
Her vision went black after that, but Amara knew she wasn't dead because that annoying ringing sound in her ears persisted, reminding her of her failure.
Time became confused in her state of disorientation, and she had no idea how long had passed when she felt her eyes being opened. As she watched the world around her through a red filter, Amara got to see Nathan's mouth moving, but she was unable to grasp a single word he said.
In a rushed manner, he took off his jacket and pulled out a knife, which he then used to slice a piece of fabric.
He said something again, and she felt his hand pressing against her forehead, the severed portion of his jacket he held being large enough to cover even her eyes below.
Amara felt like sleeping this time, the darkness feeling more welcoming than scary.
But before she could fall asleep, she noticed her body being lifted from the ground. And unlike the last time, she was being held from below as Nathan's hand kept her head locked against his body.
The last memory she retained before her consciousness faded was of hearing the rhythmic sound of his breathing and his loud steps below, feeling as if she might have wrapped her tail around his arm. Yet, she remained unsure whether she had truly done so or if it was just a product of her imagination.
***
This was an account based on Amara's plan to flee from the war. The previous narrative is based on the events of the morning of the twentieth day of the exploratory mission of Irisa. According to your current settings, no queries will be suggested.
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submitted by Nemo__404 to HFY [link] [comments]
Luna VI query: Set the source to the translation logs of Princess Amara Auralyn.
No problem!
Luna VI query: Narrate Amara's plan to flee from the war.
***
The moment Amara's nose caught the scent of that little puff of smoke ascending from Nathan's damaged equipment, she suspected something terrible had happened. Her lack of understanding of the nature of this particular piece of human tech was unimportant. Just from knowing the fact that this was one of the few items Nathan had rushingly retrieved was more than enough for her to infer its importance.
His extremely negative reaction to its destruction also hadn't escaped her notice.
Amid the ragged bursts of breath and droplets of sweat running down his face, he stared at the smoking piece of equipment on the ground as he cursed. Then he stood up in a huff, pulling his hair as if trying to remove it from his scalp.
With the object source of their distress in between herself and Nathan, she asked a question that she already knew the answer to. "Was that the device you would use to request help?"
Nathan was breathing too fast to speak properly. "What else could. It be."
His confirmation was the last straw for her to close her eyes, allowing all the emotions she'd been suppressing to be manifested, like a multi-colored river flowing among her black spots.
When she opened her eyes again, she and Nathan were already locking gazes, him bending his head forward as he used his knees to support his upper body, while she stood upright with her head at the same vertical level as his.
Amara felt a shared sense of anger at the situation between them, but she was also afraid that Nathan’s anger was more targeted at her than at the situation.
It took some courage for her to speak first.
"Do you have other means for contacting your people?" She knew it was unlikely he had that, but it was still a question worth asking.
"The radio transmitter was being jammed. I didn't think of bringing it with me." He was recovering his breath fast. "What about you? There is that earpiece, and yesterday you had that AR visor on all day."
"The communicator in my ear is short-ranged. As for the AR visor..." She struggled to tell the truth, but she still did it. "I hid it inside a hole in a tree and forgot it."
"A hole? In a tree? Are you kidding me?"
The truth was that Amara hid it before entering Nathan's tent on the previous night. She had certain expectations and didn't want to be interrupted by the notifications.
But of course, she would never admit that.
"See any pockets?" She extended both hands and put her tail beside them, showing she had nowhere to store the items.
"Oh… sorry. Sometimes I forget our differences."
Nathan believed her so easily that she felt a little bad for him, but not bad enough to waste their precious time with unnecessary talking. "Even should I go alone, I fear I cannot retrieve our devices. I would just get killed or captured for nothing. We cannot stay here either because soon they will follow your trail; we need a plan."
She was certain the only reason the enemies hadn't followed them yet was because they had underestimated Nathan's ability to run.
"I wouldn't let you go back there even if you wanted to, Amara. But at least you are thinking now." He touched his chin, his eyes wandering around. "And yeah, we need a plan."
Unknowingly to Nathan, his words had caused Amara to drift away. And it was not because of him saying he wouldn't allow her to return, but because of his mention of the fact that she wasn't thinking before.
And this had affected her deeply because she utterly agreed with him.
By noticing how differently Ryo and Elysira had handled the same situation before they had fleed, Amara had reflected about how poorly she had reacted to the war. She was guilty of thinking about this more than just a little while Nathan was putting in all the effort to take her away from danger.
She traced back her mistake to a single moment—when Nathan had told her his list of reasons why they couldn't be together. This was when she had allowed her heart to be poisoned with rejection, which by morning had spiraled out of control by the dreadful reportings she had received, and finally, it had culminated in her emotional response to the crisis.
Which curiously Nathan had later fixed by his total commitment to staying together.
Amara found all of that pathetic.
This time she set her priorities straight as she suppressed her detrimental feelings in favor of reason. "We could trek parallel to the mountain and find a cave to hide until the elders send help."
"How long would that take?" He asked.
His questions triggered a long chain of assumptions in her mind. She first considered the political situation after the disruptive assassinations in the capital, and then the logistics of the deployment of reinforcements.
But Amara discarded the whole plan when she tried to envision how long it would take for her allies to find them in the darkness of the forest, realizing how flawed her suggestion was.
Displaying red, she said, "Help will be here today, yet the war on the ground will turn into a slow spot-and-kill conflict. My thoughts must still be clouded. To hide in the mountains is a death sentence; the rebels would have a better idea where to search for us than my allies would."
Nathan touched his face and shook his head at her admission. Without fully understanding what he was doing, she watched him approach a young tree and stare at its bark as his right arm tensed.
Before she could ask a single question, he punched the rough bark, dislodging some wood from the brittle surface and making it fall.
He said, "I'm such an idiot. Now our only option is to keep running and I didn't even bring the water."
She was taken aback by his reaction.
It was true among her species that the males could be more aggressive under stressful situations. But to go as far as hunting themselves against a tree? This was something she hadn't seen before nor she could understand.
What would she do now?
Of all her priorities, communicating with him was very high on her list. This went much beyond certain feelings she had, being directly linked to their survival. Remembering how Ryo and Elysira had handled the same situation before they had fled, she couldn't help but feel like she and Nathan were still failing at this.
Following more instinct than reason, Amara decided to approach him as the red on her skin gradually gave way to purple at every step she took.
When he was within tails reach of her, she spoke.
"I cannot read your thoughts much less can I see your feelings, but I presume that similar to me you can also sense that we failed today, am I wrong?" Nathan pursed his lips and didn't reply, leaving her at a loss for a moment. Yet she didn't give up and wrapped her tail around his wrist, raising his scraped knuckles for him to see. "Why have you done this?"
"I..." He averted his eyes from the wound, relaxing his arm. "This ain't me I swear Amara. It's just-"
"The drones are coming." She was forced to shut him up with her tail to confirm what she heard in the background while he was speaking. After adjusting the angle of her ears she added, "At least three."
Seeing Nathan's face contort from one weird expression after the other, she could only feel regret and anger that she was forced to interrupt him. But as long as they were alive they could always talk more later.
"Great!" He took a deep breath and lowered his back for her to climb. "Let's see how far I can go without water."
"No." She could hear the drones advancing slowly, likely searching for places where they might have hidden, underestimating how far Nathan had taken her. "I do not doubt you can run more, but there is no point in running unless we can lose them. Can you do what Ryo did and destroy them?"
He didn't look at her as he replied, "I could try, but I don't have whatever aim improving add-on the military gave him, much less the years of training."
"Can I borrow your loud gun then?" Amara had a seed of a plan in her mind, a risky and reckless plan but still better than doing nothing or engaging in more random running.
"What? Do you have any idea how hard is to shoot those things down?" Nathan took her request so badly that he lifted his body again to explain more. "Your species may have precise movements and all, but this revolver needs more than just aiming, there's the recoil, reloading, and I bet it hurt your ears; besides I doubt you can do better than me without having taken a single shot with one of our guns your whole life."
Nathan was not wrong.
No matter how hard it felt to admit it to herself, the truth was that she was not a frontline fighter. She could bring order. She could weed out traitors. She could give directions. But taking a gun and firing at the enemies? Even a gun crafted by her species was something she lacked experience using.
Still, the way that he expressed his doubt without even hearing what she had in mind made her quite angry. It was nothing close to the feeling of rejection from the night, but it was still enough to encourage her to double down on her idea.
"I do not intend to shoot the drones from far away like you humans do." Amara pointed at the canopy of the young tree beside them and waited for him to look up before she added, "I want to ambush them from a close distance."
His eyes widened, but Nathan still wasn't convinced. "That's dangerous Amara. What if you miss it? You'll just let them know where we are for nothing. And even if you don't miss the shots can’t they just send more drones?"
"You speak reason, but my goal extends beyond destroying them. I know how brother and my species think and I want to mislead them." Amara did her best to let him know her intention. "You will have to be my bait too, and we will need to run as fast as we can towards the valleys once I destroy them. I would explain everything if there was time, but right now you will have to trust me."
"You want to go to the valleys..." He spoke in a low voice as he scratched his head.
Seeing that he didn't straight up reject her idea this time, Amara went on for the last push, showing a forced hint of yellow to try and sound confident. "No sane individual would go to the valleys without equipment and a large group, my brother and his army will never consider searching for us in there."
She regretted her wording as soon as she was done speaking, afraid she might have scared Nathan who was taking his time to reply.
But before she could say anything more, Nathan started loading his gun and when he was done he used his thumb to lower a little lever. "You have to pull this thing down each time before pulling the trigger, but I guess you saw me doing it enough times already." He then undid his action before offering the gun to her as he held it by the muzzle. "Don't forget to hold it with all your might or the recoil will hurt you."
She considered saying some words to let him know how much his trust meant to her, but the drones were approaching and there were more important things to say. Her tail simply coiled around the gun, and she took it as the weight of the task ahead caused the object to feel heavier than it was.
She considered if she should ask for more ammunition, but concluded she wouldn't have time to reload, which she knew was bad despite making things significantly easier.
"Go there and make it convincing that you are absolutely exhausted, can you?" Using her tail, Amara pointed at a bright spot on the ground, where a beam of blue light was making its way from the canopies to the ground. "This is important Nathan. The operators must believe you reached your limit, they must report to my brother that you cannot run much longer."
"This won't be too hard." His lips curled into a hint of a smile. "But are you sure they don't use AI instead of operators to guide the drones?"
"Only you humans are crazy enough to disregard the only law the alliance enforces." She started climbing the tree with each of her clawed hands poking holes into the bark from a different side, but when she was already above Nathan, she looked below. "I am counting on you. We made too many mistakes today, one more and it might not be forgiven."
"I'll do what you asked, okay? Just hit the drones and don't fall from the tree." He said before running towards the spot she had instructed him.
With each of them agreeing on their role, Amara kept climbing the tree, finding little difficulty in her initial task. This was so easy that almost all of her attention was focused on tracking the spinning blades of the drones, which were constantly approaching at a speed that suggested they were doing a minute inspection of the ground.
It was only when she was already high above that she noticed the first problem.
If she wanted the advantage of shooting the drones from the same plane they were approaching, Amara would either have to give up a hand for the aim, or she would have to compromise her camouflage by wrapping her legs around the tree to help her tail to hold her body.
Neither of the options was ideal, but doing nothing was even worse, which led her to choose to sacrifice some of her ability to aim in favor of a tighter grip, ensuring that her legs kept hidden behind the trunk as she pressed each of her clawed fingers of her left hand against the rough bark for a secure hold.
Feeling a burning anxiety like she never felt before, she transferred the gun from her tail to her right hand and surrounded the tree with her now free tail to improve her grip even more.
She then turned her head and took a final glance at Nathan and confirmed he was stooping down and breathing loudly, exactly on the spot she had asked him to go.
Now everything was ready.
Amara hid the gun in between her belly and the tree as her whole body mimicked the brownish color of the bark, even her tail and hair transitioning from their typical blue to a copy of the textured color surrounding her.
Her eyes closed and only a mental representation of her surroundings remained, being especially accurate this time as if her her body knew there was no room for mistakes.
As the seconds passed, her heart rate slowed down and her awareness peaked. Of all her body, only her long ears slightly moved as the positions of the three drones became less foggy in her mind the closer they got to her.
The fact that one of them suddenly stopped moving right in front of the tree was something she expected, that being the exact moment its sensors had found Nathan on the ground.
Instead of attacking, Amara waited.
And almost envisioning the exact conversation the operators were having behind their visors, she gauged the time they took to communicate among themselves by observing how long the other two drones had taken to start moving closer to the one that had spotted Nathan first.
This wasn't a lot of time, which put into perspective how fast she would have to act in order to prevent the other two drones from repositioning after the first one was destroyed.
Her heart was beating slowly and her mind was focused; the chances of the targets getting closer were no different than that of them getting more distant.
Somewhere inside she could feel it—now was the perfect moment for her attack.
Amara's eyes snapped open and her heart rate multiplied by nearly threefold, preparing her for intense exertion. The muscles of her left arm propelled her body sideways, taking her head away from the protection of the tree trunk. That happened at the same time that her clawed finger pulled down the little lever, just like Nathan had taught her.
Her eyes locked first on the most distant target, which was not further away from her than twelve meters, and her right arm moved accordingly, raising the gun as her clawed finger slipped into the trigger.
She knew how painful to her ears the noise would be, yet she still forced her eyes to stay open as she pulled the trigger.
Except, she flinched at the last moment and ended up missing the target because of it.
Now her ears were ringing and the number of targets was the same, fueling her fury for the next shots she fired in a quick sequence.
It took three more attempts to destroy the furthest target, turning her fury into apprehension.
And apprehension quickly transitioned into despair when, after destroying the middle target with two shots, she pulled the trigger aiming at the closed drone, only to hear an empty click.
The drone rotated towards her and she also felt Nathan's gaze in the distance, screaming something that she was too numb to understand.
Would she be the reason for their demise?
Just the thought of how happy her brother would be for seeing her so helpless was more than enough of a reason for her to not accept that.
So at the lack of bullets, she spitefully threw the gun at the spinning blades.
And when the outcome of her desperate action did little more than cause the drone to lose control for a few moments, she still refused to give up and pounced on it as if she were a trained huntress.
If Bhaela could jump from a tree and dig her claws into the veins of an Oczoil from high above and survive to tell the tale, why couldn't she do the same with a little drone?
Her confidence only lasted until no part of her body was touching the tree and her limbs contacted the blades, causing a sharp pain, which she promptly forgot as flesh and machine plummeted together.
Amara tried to use her tail and arms to cushion the fall, but unlike Bhaela graceful performance, all she achieved was her belly smashing the drone against the ground before her arms and head split the kinetic energy from the fall.
Her vision went black after that, but Amara knew she wasn't dead because that annoying ringing sound in her ears persisted, reminding her of her failure.
Time became confused in her state of disorientation, and she had no idea how long had passed when she felt her eyes being opened. As she watched the world around her through a red filter, Amara got to see Nathan's mouth moving, but she was unable to grasp a single word he said.
In a rushed manner, he took off his jacket and pulled out a knife, which he then used to slice a piece of fabric.
He said something again, and she felt his hand pressing against her forehead, the severed portion of his jacket he held being large enough to cover even her eyes below.
Amara felt like sleeping this time, the darkness feeling more welcoming than scary.
But before she could fall asleep, she noticed her body being lifted from the ground. And unlike the last time, she was being held from below as Nathan's hand kept her head locked against his body.
The last memory she retained before her consciousness faded was of hearing the rhythmic sound of his breathing and his loud steps below, feeling as if she might have wrapped her tail around his arm. Yet, she remained unsure whether she had truly done so or if it was just a product of her imagination.
***
This was an account based on Amara's plan to flee from the war. The previous narrative is based on the events of the morning of the twentieth day of the exploratory mission of Irisa. According to your current settings, no queries will be suggested.
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2024.05.29 02:32 ladyblue690 First Draft Feedback Pls!
Hi! I'm looking for honest feedback on a book I'm (slowly) working on. This is a rough draft of Chapter 1. Is this something you would be drawn to read? It's already been submitted but would like more feedback pls
Coming of age creative non-fiction focusing on mental health, resilience, and restructuring family dynamics:
Chapter 1
Kelly entered the world during a bitter February winter in 1990, born to Alan and Geri McIntyre, both 27-years-old, residing in a quaint fishing town near the harbor in St. John's, Newfoundland. Alan, a member of the Canadian military reserves, had prompted their relocation from Halifax, seeking new opportunities for his growing family. Geri, a dedicated neonatal nurse, tirelessly juggled night shifts at the local hospital while caring for their two young daughters during the day. Despite their modest beginnings, Alan and Geri were determined to give their children a better life, teaching them the values of resilience and perseverance.
Geri was raised in a close-knit, humble family called the Perrys. Her father, a hardworking coal miner, balanced his sternness with sweetness as he spent his free time fishing or hunting with his sons. Her mother, vibrant and outspoken, managed the household while caring for their four children, often intervening in the daily tiffs between Geri and her younger sister, Charlene. Their parents spent their weekends going to local dances, where they danced the Irish jig and played the fiddle and spoons until their fingers bled. Her father, trained in classical guitar, would sometimes join in on the music when he had enough moonshine in him. Their modest country home, perched by the river, boasted just one bathroom, but despite their financial limitations, they found contentment in their simple life.
Upon reaching 18, Geri ventured to the bustling city of Sydney for nursing school, drawn by the promise of education and opportunity. Despite the distance, she remained deeply connected to her family, frequently returning home to end her homesickness. However, as she embraced the newfound independence of her senior year, her visits became shorter and less frequent, signaling the beginning of her journey into adulthood.
Alan's upbringing was marked by pain and turbulence. His father, an unemployed alcoholic, viciously abused Alan, his eldest son, while directing his anger and hatred towards women at his wife and young daughter. The McIntyre family was known for their unsavory reputation in Halifax, which carried on through Alan's father and his brothers.
Locked in his bedroom for weeks on end, Alan found solace only in his sketches, which served as outlets for his sadness and frustration. Despite being the family's breadwinner, and Alan's main source of comfort, his mother remained stoic, seemingly blind to the suffering inflicted upon her son. Seeking refuge from the chaos at home, Alan often fled to a friend's house, where he could find peace and a warm meal. However, as rumors spread about Alan stealing from local stores to survive, even his friends began to distance themselves, influenced by the stigma surrounding his troubled family background.
Wanting to break from the reputation that followed him, Alan focused on his goals and the future he envisioned for himself. Fueled by unshakeable purpose, he set his sights on a brighter path, determined to break free from the shadows of his family. He pursued admission to the prestigious engineering program at Dalhousie University, despite his lackluster grades and absence of any references. Undeterred by setbacks, Alan lobbied the dean of admissions, his daily visits to the dean's office a testament to his tireless pursuit of his dreams. And in a triumph of willpower over adversity, he secured his place in the engineering program. From then on, Alan would be known as a businessman, breaking free from the stereotype of the neighborhood black sheep.
It wasn't until Geri graduated from nursing school and moved to Halifax that Alan and she met. As it was told to their daughters, they met while dancing to disco at the downtown liquor dome on Halloween night. Amidst the beat and swirling lights, their eyes locked, igniting a connection. For Alan, Geri exuded a calming presence, a stark difference from the constant tension that had defined much of his life. In her, he found a beacon of optimism, a sanctuary from the shadows that had long haunted him.
As the night ended, Alan walked Geri back to her downtown apartment, the promise of a future encounter hanging in the air. Plans for a formal date were made, sealing their newfound connection with a tender kiss on Geri's cheek. Yet, true to his nature, Alan attempted to play the role of a suave charmer, feigning indifference with an attempt to reschedule their date later in the week. Geri's unwavering resolve quickly broke down this facade, insisting on the integrity of their initial plan or none at all. Faced with her steadfast determination, Alan folded, realizing that in Geri, he had met his match in both spirit and heart. They were married on Halloween day a year later.
The eldest daughter, Kelsey, spent almost two years as the McIntyre's only child. It is said by Geri that when Kelsey was born in mid-January of 1988, she looked almost unearthly, like a cherub brought down to earth. Her golden hair, round face, and big rosy cheeks brought them to tears when they were first allowed to hold her in their arms. With dark brown almond-shaped eyes glowing up at her parents' faces with recognition. She was perfect to them. Yet, as they soon discovered upon bringing her home, their newfound bliss was met with restless nights that stretched into teary dawns. Kelsey could not make it through the night without incident and was severely lacking sleep herself. In the wake of these exhausting nights and whispered frustrations, Geri and Alan's seemingly unshakable foundation began to show signs of strain.
Once the idea of Kelly entered the picture, Kelsey was excited for her new built-in best friend, but wary about how this new addition would change things for her. She had been the apple of her parents' eye, the subject of all of their attention and affection. Even at such a young age, Kelsey worried about her new baby sister coming home and taking over, leaving her trailing behind.
When Kelly finally made her grand entrance home from the hospital, Kelsey watched from behind the wooden railings of the staircase, half expecting a tiny intruder to burst out of the bassinet. But when their eyes finally met, something shifted in her. Kelsey saw in Kelly not a rival, but a partner in crime, and she vowed right then and there to be the best big sister she could be.
Their family only lived in Newfoundland for two years, so Kelly had to rely on her sister's later retellings of their short time in the arctic tundra – or so Geri liked to call it. Kelsey was good at storytelling, and whether the stories were true or make-believe, Kelly enjoyed believing them. Kelsey would explain that most days they spent with their mother at home, preparing dinner for their father and baking treats from their family cookbook to hand out to their chatty neighbors. When Geri was working, and Alan was indisposed, they were cared for by a neighborhood sitter. She became Geri's confidant. Geri did not have many friends in St. John's, and during the free time she did have, she spent it with the girls. It was becoming a mundane, monotonous existence she had not imagined for herself. Geri was never even sure if she wanted children, and in the absence of Alan's support, she felt lost in motherhood. She longed for simpler times. Kelsey and Kelly seemed to grow like weeds, becoming fuller of sass and fearlessness as the days moved on to months. Geri was afraid of what the future had in store for them.
END...for now
submitted by ladyblue690 to KeepWriting [link] [comments]
Coming of age creative non-fiction focusing on mental health, resilience, and restructuring family dynamics:
Chapter 1
Kelly entered the world during a bitter February winter in 1990, born to Alan and Geri McIntyre, both 27-years-old, residing in a quaint fishing town near the harbor in St. John's, Newfoundland. Alan, a member of the Canadian military reserves, had prompted their relocation from Halifax, seeking new opportunities for his growing family. Geri, a dedicated neonatal nurse, tirelessly juggled night shifts at the local hospital while caring for their two young daughters during the day. Despite their modest beginnings, Alan and Geri were determined to give their children a better life, teaching them the values of resilience and perseverance.
Geri was raised in a close-knit, humble family called the Perrys. Her father, a hardworking coal miner, balanced his sternness with sweetness as he spent his free time fishing or hunting with his sons. Her mother, vibrant and outspoken, managed the household while caring for their four children, often intervening in the daily tiffs between Geri and her younger sister, Charlene. Their parents spent their weekends going to local dances, where they danced the Irish jig and played the fiddle and spoons until their fingers bled. Her father, trained in classical guitar, would sometimes join in on the music when he had enough moonshine in him. Their modest country home, perched by the river, boasted just one bathroom, but despite their financial limitations, they found contentment in their simple life.
Upon reaching 18, Geri ventured to the bustling city of Sydney for nursing school, drawn by the promise of education and opportunity. Despite the distance, she remained deeply connected to her family, frequently returning home to end her homesickness. However, as she embraced the newfound independence of her senior year, her visits became shorter and less frequent, signaling the beginning of her journey into adulthood.
Alan's upbringing was marked by pain and turbulence. His father, an unemployed alcoholic, viciously abused Alan, his eldest son, while directing his anger and hatred towards women at his wife and young daughter. The McIntyre family was known for their unsavory reputation in Halifax, which carried on through Alan's father and his brothers.
Locked in his bedroom for weeks on end, Alan found solace only in his sketches, which served as outlets for his sadness and frustration. Despite being the family's breadwinner, and Alan's main source of comfort, his mother remained stoic, seemingly blind to the suffering inflicted upon her son. Seeking refuge from the chaos at home, Alan often fled to a friend's house, where he could find peace and a warm meal. However, as rumors spread about Alan stealing from local stores to survive, even his friends began to distance themselves, influenced by the stigma surrounding his troubled family background.
Wanting to break from the reputation that followed him, Alan focused on his goals and the future he envisioned for himself. Fueled by unshakeable purpose, he set his sights on a brighter path, determined to break free from the shadows of his family. He pursued admission to the prestigious engineering program at Dalhousie University, despite his lackluster grades and absence of any references. Undeterred by setbacks, Alan lobbied the dean of admissions, his daily visits to the dean's office a testament to his tireless pursuit of his dreams. And in a triumph of willpower over adversity, he secured his place in the engineering program. From then on, Alan would be known as a businessman, breaking free from the stereotype of the neighborhood black sheep.
It wasn't until Geri graduated from nursing school and moved to Halifax that Alan and she met. As it was told to their daughters, they met while dancing to disco at the downtown liquor dome on Halloween night. Amidst the beat and swirling lights, their eyes locked, igniting a connection. For Alan, Geri exuded a calming presence, a stark difference from the constant tension that had defined much of his life. In her, he found a beacon of optimism, a sanctuary from the shadows that had long haunted him.
As the night ended, Alan walked Geri back to her downtown apartment, the promise of a future encounter hanging in the air. Plans for a formal date were made, sealing their newfound connection with a tender kiss on Geri's cheek. Yet, true to his nature, Alan attempted to play the role of a suave charmer, feigning indifference with an attempt to reschedule their date later in the week. Geri's unwavering resolve quickly broke down this facade, insisting on the integrity of their initial plan or none at all. Faced with her steadfast determination, Alan folded, realizing that in Geri, he had met his match in both spirit and heart. They were married on Halloween day a year later.
The eldest daughter, Kelsey, spent almost two years as the McIntyre's only child. It is said by Geri that when Kelsey was born in mid-January of 1988, she looked almost unearthly, like a cherub brought down to earth. Her golden hair, round face, and big rosy cheeks brought them to tears when they were first allowed to hold her in their arms. With dark brown almond-shaped eyes glowing up at her parents' faces with recognition. She was perfect to them. Yet, as they soon discovered upon bringing her home, their newfound bliss was met with restless nights that stretched into teary dawns. Kelsey could not make it through the night without incident and was severely lacking sleep herself. In the wake of these exhausting nights and whispered frustrations, Geri and Alan's seemingly unshakable foundation began to show signs of strain.
Once the idea of Kelly entered the picture, Kelsey was excited for her new built-in best friend, but wary about how this new addition would change things for her. She had been the apple of her parents' eye, the subject of all of their attention and affection. Even at such a young age, Kelsey worried about her new baby sister coming home and taking over, leaving her trailing behind.
When Kelly finally made her grand entrance home from the hospital, Kelsey watched from behind the wooden railings of the staircase, half expecting a tiny intruder to burst out of the bassinet. But when their eyes finally met, something shifted in her. Kelsey saw in Kelly not a rival, but a partner in crime, and she vowed right then and there to be the best big sister she could be.
Their family only lived in Newfoundland for two years, so Kelly had to rely on her sister's later retellings of their short time in the arctic tundra – or so Geri liked to call it. Kelsey was good at storytelling, and whether the stories were true or make-believe, Kelly enjoyed believing them. Kelsey would explain that most days they spent with their mother at home, preparing dinner for their father and baking treats from their family cookbook to hand out to their chatty neighbors. When Geri was working, and Alan was indisposed, they were cared for by a neighborhood sitter. She became Geri's confidant. Geri did not have many friends in St. John's, and during the free time she did have, she spent it with the girls. It was becoming a mundane, monotonous existence she had not imagined for herself. Geri was never even sure if she wanted children, and in the absence of Alan's support, she felt lost in motherhood. She longed for simpler times. Kelsey and Kelly seemed to grow like weeds, becoming fuller of sass and fearlessness as the days moved on to months. Geri was afraid of what the future had in store for them.
END...for now
2024.05.29 02:27 Mrmander20 [Vell Harlan and the Doomsday Dorms] 4 C8.1: The Doomsday Dad
At the world’s top college of magic and technology, every day brings a new discovery -and a new disaster. The advanced experiments of the college students tend to be both ambitious and apocalyptic, with the end of the world only prevented by a mysterious time loop, and a small handful of students who retain their memories.
Surviving the loops was hard enough, but now, in his senior year, Vell Harlan must take charge of them, and deal with the fact that the whole world now knows his secrets. Everyone knows about Vell’s death and resurrection, along with the divine game he is a part of. Now Vell must contend with overly curious scientists and evil billionaires hungry for divine power while the daily doomsday cycle bombards him with terrorists, talking elephants, and the Grim Reaper himself -but if he can endure it all, the Last Goddess’s game promises the ultimate prize: power over life itself.
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The last few notes of a Roxy Rocket song echoed through Vell’s dorm, and while scrappy and dissonant, they were at least coherent. An improvement from early lessons, especially.
“Well, that didn’t hurt to listen to,” Skye said. “You’re making progress.”
“You have such a way with words,” Vell said.
“Okay, fine,” Skye said. “You’re actually making good progress for a guy who only finds time to practice every couple weeks.”
The ever-encroaching responsibilities of being a senior, the leader of the loopers, and the focus of a godly game of fate had whittled Vell’s free time down to almost nothing. The occasional guitar lessons were some of his only islands amid the storm, and a welcome excuse to spend more time with Skye.
“You want to try a few more chords?”
“My hands are starting to hurt, actually,” Vell said. He pulled away from the guitar strings and shook tense fingers loose, revealing fingertips rubbed red and raw by practice. Skye stepped forward and took him by the wrist to examine his hands.
“I do not understand how a guy like you doesn’t have thicker skin,” Skye said. “Weren’t you an actual cowboy for a while? You did rodeos and everything.”
“I wore gloves,” Vell said.
“And for the rest of the weird shit you’ve done in your life?”
Vell took a long pause.
“Yeah, I don’t know,” Vell said. “Good genes, I guess.”
“I’m not complaining, mind you, I just think-”
A loud dinging sound from Skye’s purse interrupted the conversation, and she released her grip on Vell to go answer her phone. Vell recognized those familiar chimes as the Dad Ringtone. While most contacts were set to vibrate, Skye’s father and a few other lucky high-priority contacts got their own ringtones. Vell was lucky enough to have his ringtone set to the theme song of a cartoon Skye had loved as a kid, but played at a much lower volume than the Dad Ringtone. Skye’s father didn’t call often, and when he did it was usually about something important, so she wanted to be sure to never miss a call.
“Hey dad,” Skye began. “No, now’s fine. What’s up?”
Vell set his guitar back on the shelf and relaxed while Skye continued the call.
“No, no, that’d be fine, great, even,” Skye said. “He might be a little busy, but- What?”
Skye’s delight and talking to her father shifted to mild concern.
“Dad we kind of need to- no, not tomorrow, dad,” Skye said. “Dad!”
A long silence followed as Skye held the phone frozen by her ear for a short time. She tucked it back into her purse, took a deep breath, and clapped her hands together as she spun to face Vell.
“So, good news, you’re going to get to meet my dad,” Skye squeaked.
“And the bad news?”
“Well, part one of the bad news is that it’s going to happen tomorrow,” Skye said. Vell would’ve like a little more notice, but that was far from disastrous. Part two was still waiting, though. “And part two is that I kind of maybe didn’t do a very good job describing the nature of our relationship, and he sort of a little bit thinks you’re...a hero.”
Vell waited for a part three, and there was none.
“Is that the bad news?” Vell scoffed. “I might let him down a little, but there’s worse things my girlfriend’s dad could think of me.”
“Yeah there’s definitely a few upsides, be sure to hold on to those,” Skye said. “But also, you know how I flunked out of mad scientist school?”
“Yeah?”
“Well my dad...didn’t.”
***
“Your girlfriend’s dad is a supervillain?”
“Former supervillain,” Vell corrected. He adjusted the suit coat he’d just put on. “He left the game after she was born and went white hat, now he only builds death rays and robot armies so relevant authorities can observe, learn, and prepare for the real deal.”
Having a genuine mad scientist to train with helped keep secret agents and spies ready for actual threats, and Skye’s father got to keep doing what he loved: threatening to blow up the world.
“Are you still really a supervillain if you don’t actually do any villain shit?” Hawke wondered aloud. “Isn’t he just sort a supertrainer? What would you call that?”
“I’d call it asinine,” Alex said. “We shouldn’t be condoning this behavior, much less inviting him to build a death ray on our campus.”
The Einstein-Odinson had been selected as the faux-mad scientist’s next testing ground, and due to a misunderstanding of his role on campus, Vell had been selected as his testing partner. He had to put on a tuxedo and everything, to better fit the classic secret agent trope Skye’s father was envisioning.
“Mad scientists are an important part of the scientific ecosystem,” Helena said.
“You’d know,” Samson muttered under his breath.
“Conflict breeds innovation,” Helena continued, either heedless to or deliberately ignoring his snide comment. “The arc of history requires both heroes and villains.”
“Yeah, well, as far as villains go, I prefer mine to be weird old dads with fake death rays,” Kim said. “Still, Vell, doesn’t it feel kind of weird that he doesn’t actually know you’re dating his daughter?”
“It’s fine,” Vell insisted. “It’s always awkward trying to talk to your parents about your relationship, and she just over-focused on me saving the day and helping people. Simple miscommunication.”
“And when are you resolving that miscommunication?”
“Later,” Vell said. “Skye and her dad don’t get to spend much time together anymore. They’ll take the day, and we’ll get this all sorted out later.”
A life of volcano lairs, alpine bases, and remote tropical islands did not exactly make it easy for Skye to keep up with her dad, so having him concoct a scheme right on her home turf was a good way for the two of them to spend time together. Right now, Vell’s only priority was allowing for some healthy father-daughter bonding time. And also preventing the apocalypse.
“Okay, I’m good to go,” Vell said, as he finished up the knot in his bow-tie. “Hawke, ready on comms?”
“Mission control good to go, Agent Harlan,” Hawke said. He enjoyed any apocalyptic arrangement that allowed him to stay safely behind a chair, but playing mission control was especially fun.
“Good. Samson, you’re on tech duty,” Vell said. “The rest of you, keep an eye on the island. There’s no guarantee our supervillain will actually end the world. Which feels like a weird thing to say.”
Big events usually invited big catastrophes, and a literal supervillain seemed like a prime spark for some apocalyptic fire, but Vell was not so sure. He couldn’t think of anything less likely to actually end the world than a deliberate attempt to do so. All the loopers agreed having some backup eyes on other potential disasters might be warranted.
“Let’s just get this over with,” Alex said. She was the first to leave, everyone else filtered into their respective roles to play soon enough. Samson walked alongside Vell as he left the lair.
“Hey, do I have to put up the whole mission control act like Hawke was doing?”
“Not if you don’t want to,” Vell said. “Play it up a little if Skye’s dad is around, maybe, but like, right now we can just talk normally.”
“Okay, cool. Got your shit right here,” Samson said, as he hefted a large bag of gadget. “Standard spy bullshit. Gizmo watch, secret cufflink radios, pen with a concealed laser cutter, got it all right here.”
“Thanks,” Vell said. “Where’d you find all this stuff?”
“I just asked,” Samson said with a shrug. “Island full of supergenius weirdos, most of them had this kind of stuff just lying around.”
“Convenient. Did you make a list of everyone you got this stuff from?”
“So we can keep an eye on them? Yeah.”
“So I can give it back later,” Vell corrected. “But yeah, actually, knowing about the laser pen guy might be a good idea.”
“We’ll know where to start with any laser-based apocalypses,” Samson said.
“Good instinct,” Vell said. The two of them walked out of the building and towards the docks. “Am I walking weird? I’ve never worn a tux before.”
“Little stiff, but I think it’s working in your favor. You look more serious.”
“Great, thanks,” Vell said. He stepped up to the edge of the docks and strapped on his gadget watch before checking the time on it. “Should be here soon.”
“You need me to stick around?”
“No, you’re good,” Vell said. “Thanks for the help.”
Samson excused himself before the chaos started in full. Vell felt like an idiot standing around in a tux for a minute or two, until he was joined by someone in an equally odd outfit. Skye joined him in waiting on the docks, wearing a dress with long sleeves and a short skirt over sparkling tights and some very high-heeled boots.
“Very gogo dancer,” Vell said.
“Yeah, dad’s really into that whole Cold War era 60’s style,” Skye said. “Apparently this is what a ‘proper villainess’ looks like to him.”
“Could be worse, could be the catsuit kind of female villain.”
“Ugh, don’t get me started,” Skye said. “Every time he took me to work conferences I had to watch grown women try to waddle around in pleather bodysuits.”
“Supervillains have conferences?”
“Oh yeah, surprisingly good ones,” Skye said. “Especially if you’re a little girl who likes genetically engineered sharks.”
“Oh, so that’s where you got your start.”
Skye nodded. Her penchant for genetic engineering had struck at an early age. Her father had initially been excited for her to get into the family business, but it turned out Skye just liked fucking with fish DNA, and didn’t have much skill in all the non-genetic engineering parts of mad science. He was proud of her anyway.
After shifting on uncomfortably high heels for the umpteenth time, Skye checked her phone and texted her father.
“He says he’s pulling up right now,” Skye said. Vell scanned the horizon and saw nothing coming across the ocean.
“Is he at the right-”
Vell was cut off, and forced to step back, as the ocean started to churn. The waves parted to reveal a jet-black submarine with a towering, jagged skull carved into the prow.
“Oh, right, supervillain,” Vell said.
The imposing submersible drifted to a halt, and a hatched on the side hissed open. Red lights beamed out from the darkness within, and a few seconds later, an armored killbot marched down a boarding ramp, flanked by a towering man in a long white labcoat. He had a jagged streak of black through his otherwise gray hair, and wore heavy glasses with thick black lenses that obscured his gaze and shadowed his face.
“Hi dad,” Skye said.
“Hello dear,” said the man behind the murder machine. He stepped off the boarding ramp onto the dock, as another killbot exited to flank him, and fixed his dark glasses on Vell. “And as for you...I am Doc-”
“Doc” stopped his imposing introduction to have a coughing fit. Skye stepped up and put a hand on his shoulder.
“Dad, did you take your meds today?”
“I did, I did,” the Doc said, between coughs. “Just a climate thing. I got on the damn submarine in Seattle, now we’re in the tropics, there’s pressure differentials, humidity.”
He let out a few more coughs and then cleared his throat loudly, before regaining his previous composure.
“Now, as I was saying,” he continued. “I am Doc Ragnarok!”
His boisterous shout failed to echo in the open air of the docks.
“Oh, good lord, that was terrible,” Doc Ragnarok said. “Can I try again?”
“I wouldn’t bother,” Vell said. “We’re by the beach, open air, the acoustics are terrible.”
“Oh, yes, you’re right,” Doc Ragnarok agreed. “Finally, someone who appreciates the details. You must be Vell, then, or is it Agent Harlan? Do you have a codename I should be using?’
“It’s just Harlan. Vell Harlan.”
“Yes, Skye has told me quite a bit about you,” Doc said. “You’ve escaped kidnapping attempts, outwitted undead thieves, stolen secret treasures.”
“Oh, he’s, uh, also a really nice guy, very helpful, top student,” Skye said, laying groundwork for the eventual boyfriend reveal.
“I expect nothing less,” Doc Ragnarok said. “I can’t begin to tell you how excited I am to face off against someone with real credentials again, Mr. Harlan. For the past few decades it’s been nothing but greenhorns using me as a test run, well-trained but no experience, no sense of style.”
“Well, I am nothing if not experienced,” Vell said. “Stylish, however...well, this tuxedo is a rental.”
“I can tell,” Doc Ragnarok said. He let out a single boisterous bark of delighted laughter. “Ah, look at us, already bantering. I missed this.’
Doc cleared his throat again and regained his ominous supervillain demeanor, as he snapped his fingers to make the killbots flank him.
“I must begin my preparations,” he said, in a voice shockingly distinct from his earlier conversational tone. “Challenge me if you dare.”
“Excuse me a moment,” said a voice somewhere behind the killbots. Doc snapped his fingers, ordering the crowd to part again, and Helena hopped forward on her crutches. Skye glanced at Vell curiously, and he shrugged in confusion. She wasn’t supposed to be here, for multiple reasons.
“Can I help you?”
“Yes, I was just reading your book earlier, ‘Practically Evil: A Guide to Classic Villainy’,” Helena said. “It’s a great read, but what really stood out to me is the section on classic henchman archetypes, specifically ‘The Igor’?”
She held up the book in question, which Vell noted had a picture of Doc Ragnarok holding a skull on the cover, and opened it to the section in question.
“Oh yes, I understand, completely,” Doc Ragnarok said. “As I said in the section opener, that information is presented for historical context, and I strongly condemn the typecasting of differently-abled persons like yourself into such roles. Regardless of my intent, I’m sorry if I caused any offense, and if you have feedback-”
“Oh, no, you misunderstand, I’m not offended, I’m actually intrigued,” Helena said. She turned the book around to quote a specific passage. “‘An outcast, often hunchbacked or otherwise misshapen in such a way to make them a pariah, physically handicapped but mentally gifted, driven to evil by the harsh treatment of judgmental peers’. I think it’s a very fitting role for me, and I’d love to give it a try.”
Vell had several very strong opinions about that, but kept all of them to himself.
“Well, it’s a bit short notice, but I’ll never discourage anyone from following the path of evil,” Doc Ragnarok said. “And this is a training exercise, after all, perfect time for you to train. Come along, minion! The more the merrier!”
Doc Ragnarok snapped his fingers again, and the killbots fell in line, this time with Helena in tow. A procession of smaller robots followed, carrying a worrying number of power cores, ray guns, and mutagens. Not for the first time, Vell began to wonder if this was a good idea. The recurring doubts got obliterated as Skye looked over her shoulder and winked. She was worth a lot more trouble than this.
submitted by Mrmander20 to redditserials [link] [comments]
Surviving the loops was hard enough, but now, in his senior year, Vell Harlan must take charge of them, and deal with the fact that the whole world now knows his secrets. Everyone knows about Vell’s death and resurrection, along with the divine game he is a part of. Now Vell must contend with overly curious scientists and evil billionaires hungry for divine power while the daily doomsday cycle bombards him with terrorists, talking elephants, and the Grim Reaper himself -but if he can endure it all, the Last Goddess’s game promises the ultimate prize: power over life itself.
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The last few notes of a Roxy Rocket song echoed through Vell’s dorm, and while scrappy and dissonant, they were at least coherent. An improvement from early lessons, especially.
“Well, that didn’t hurt to listen to,” Skye said. “You’re making progress.”
“You have such a way with words,” Vell said.
“Okay, fine,” Skye said. “You’re actually making good progress for a guy who only finds time to practice every couple weeks.”
The ever-encroaching responsibilities of being a senior, the leader of the loopers, and the focus of a godly game of fate had whittled Vell’s free time down to almost nothing. The occasional guitar lessons were some of his only islands amid the storm, and a welcome excuse to spend more time with Skye.
“You want to try a few more chords?”
“My hands are starting to hurt, actually,” Vell said. He pulled away from the guitar strings and shook tense fingers loose, revealing fingertips rubbed red and raw by practice. Skye stepped forward and took him by the wrist to examine his hands.
“I do not understand how a guy like you doesn’t have thicker skin,” Skye said. “Weren’t you an actual cowboy for a while? You did rodeos and everything.”
“I wore gloves,” Vell said.
“And for the rest of the weird shit you’ve done in your life?”
Vell took a long pause.
“Yeah, I don’t know,” Vell said. “Good genes, I guess.”
“I’m not complaining, mind you, I just think-”
A loud dinging sound from Skye’s purse interrupted the conversation, and she released her grip on Vell to go answer her phone. Vell recognized those familiar chimes as the Dad Ringtone. While most contacts were set to vibrate, Skye’s father and a few other lucky high-priority contacts got their own ringtones. Vell was lucky enough to have his ringtone set to the theme song of a cartoon Skye had loved as a kid, but played at a much lower volume than the Dad Ringtone. Skye’s father didn’t call often, and when he did it was usually about something important, so she wanted to be sure to never miss a call.
“Hey dad,” Skye began. “No, now’s fine. What’s up?”
Vell set his guitar back on the shelf and relaxed while Skye continued the call.
“No, no, that’d be fine, great, even,” Skye said. “He might be a little busy, but- What?”
Skye’s delight and talking to her father shifted to mild concern.
“Dad we kind of need to- no, not tomorrow, dad,” Skye said. “Dad!”
A long silence followed as Skye held the phone frozen by her ear for a short time. She tucked it back into her purse, took a deep breath, and clapped her hands together as she spun to face Vell.
“So, good news, you’re going to get to meet my dad,” Skye squeaked.
“And the bad news?”
“Well, part one of the bad news is that it’s going to happen tomorrow,” Skye said. Vell would’ve like a little more notice, but that was far from disastrous. Part two was still waiting, though. “And part two is that I kind of maybe didn’t do a very good job describing the nature of our relationship, and he sort of a little bit thinks you’re...a hero.”
Vell waited for a part three, and there was none.
“Is that the bad news?” Vell scoffed. “I might let him down a little, but there’s worse things my girlfriend’s dad could think of me.”
“Yeah there’s definitely a few upsides, be sure to hold on to those,” Skye said. “But also, you know how I flunked out of mad scientist school?”
“Yeah?”
“Well my dad...didn’t.”
***
“Your girlfriend’s dad is a supervillain?”
“Former supervillain,” Vell corrected. He adjusted the suit coat he’d just put on. “He left the game after she was born and went white hat, now he only builds death rays and robot armies so relevant authorities can observe, learn, and prepare for the real deal.”
Having a genuine mad scientist to train with helped keep secret agents and spies ready for actual threats, and Skye’s father got to keep doing what he loved: threatening to blow up the world.
“Are you still really a supervillain if you don’t actually do any villain shit?” Hawke wondered aloud. “Isn’t he just sort a supertrainer? What would you call that?”
“I’d call it asinine,” Alex said. “We shouldn’t be condoning this behavior, much less inviting him to build a death ray on our campus.”
The Einstein-Odinson had been selected as the faux-mad scientist’s next testing ground, and due to a misunderstanding of his role on campus, Vell had been selected as his testing partner. He had to put on a tuxedo and everything, to better fit the classic secret agent trope Skye’s father was envisioning.
“Mad scientists are an important part of the scientific ecosystem,” Helena said.
“You’d know,” Samson muttered under his breath.
“Conflict breeds innovation,” Helena continued, either heedless to or deliberately ignoring his snide comment. “The arc of history requires both heroes and villains.”
“Yeah, well, as far as villains go, I prefer mine to be weird old dads with fake death rays,” Kim said. “Still, Vell, doesn’t it feel kind of weird that he doesn’t actually know you’re dating his daughter?”
“It’s fine,” Vell insisted. “It’s always awkward trying to talk to your parents about your relationship, and she just over-focused on me saving the day and helping people. Simple miscommunication.”
“And when are you resolving that miscommunication?”
“Later,” Vell said. “Skye and her dad don’t get to spend much time together anymore. They’ll take the day, and we’ll get this all sorted out later.”
A life of volcano lairs, alpine bases, and remote tropical islands did not exactly make it easy for Skye to keep up with her dad, so having him concoct a scheme right on her home turf was a good way for the two of them to spend time together. Right now, Vell’s only priority was allowing for some healthy father-daughter bonding time. And also preventing the apocalypse.
“Okay, I’m good to go,” Vell said, as he finished up the knot in his bow-tie. “Hawke, ready on comms?”
“Mission control good to go, Agent Harlan,” Hawke said. He enjoyed any apocalyptic arrangement that allowed him to stay safely behind a chair, but playing mission control was especially fun.
“Good. Samson, you’re on tech duty,” Vell said. “The rest of you, keep an eye on the island. There’s no guarantee our supervillain will actually end the world. Which feels like a weird thing to say.”
Big events usually invited big catastrophes, and a literal supervillain seemed like a prime spark for some apocalyptic fire, but Vell was not so sure. He couldn’t think of anything less likely to actually end the world than a deliberate attempt to do so. All the loopers agreed having some backup eyes on other potential disasters might be warranted.
“Let’s just get this over with,” Alex said. She was the first to leave, everyone else filtered into their respective roles to play soon enough. Samson walked alongside Vell as he left the lair.
“Hey, do I have to put up the whole mission control act like Hawke was doing?”
“Not if you don’t want to,” Vell said. “Play it up a little if Skye’s dad is around, maybe, but like, right now we can just talk normally.”
“Okay, cool. Got your shit right here,” Samson said, as he hefted a large bag of gadget. “Standard spy bullshit. Gizmo watch, secret cufflink radios, pen with a concealed laser cutter, got it all right here.”
“Thanks,” Vell said. “Where’d you find all this stuff?”
“I just asked,” Samson said with a shrug. “Island full of supergenius weirdos, most of them had this kind of stuff just lying around.”
“Convenient. Did you make a list of everyone you got this stuff from?”
“So we can keep an eye on them? Yeah.”
“So I can give it back later,” Vell corrected. “But yeah, actually, knowing about the laser pen guy might be a good idea.”
“We’ll know where to start with any laser-based apocalypses,” Samson said.
“Good instinct,” Vell said. The two of them walked out of the building and towards the docks. “Am I walking weird? I’ve never worn a tux before.”
“Little stiff, but I think it’s working in your favor. You look more serious.”
“Great, thanks,” Vell said. He stepped up to the edge of the docks and strapped on his gadget watch before checking the time on it. “Should be here soon.”
“You need me to stick around?”
“No, you’re good,” Vell said. “Thanks for the help.”
Samson excused himself before the chaos started in full. Vell felt like an idiot standing around in a tux for a minute or two, until he was joined by someone in an equally odd outfit. Skye joined him in waiting on the docks, wearing a dress with long sleeves and a short skirt over sparkling tights and some very high-heeled boots.
“Very gogo dancer,” Vell said.
“Yeah, dad’s really into that whole Cold War era 60’s style,” Skye said. “Apparently this is what a ‘proper villainess’ looks like to him.”
“Could be worse, could be the catsuit kind of female villain.”
“Ugh, don’t get me started,” Skye said. “Every time he took me to work conferences I had to watch grown women try to waddle around in pleather bodysuits.”
“Supervillains have conferences?”
“Oh yeah, surprisingly good ones,” Skye said. “Especially if you’re a little girl who likes genetically engineered sharks.”
“Oh, so that’s where you got your start.”
Skye nodded. Her penchant for genetic engineering had struck at an early age. Her father had initially been excited for her to get into the family business, but it turned out Skye just liked fucking with fish DNA, and didn’t have much skill in all the non-genetic engineering parts of mad science. He was proud of her anyway.
After shifting on uncomfortably high heels for the umpteenth time, Skye checked her phone and texted her father.
“He says he’s pulling up right now,” Skye said. Vell scanned the horizon and saw nothing coming across the ocean.
“Is he at the right-”
Vell was cut off, and forced to step back, as the ocean started to churn. The waves parted to reveal a jet-black submarine with a towering, jagged skull carved into the prow.
“Oh, right, supervillain,” Vell said.
The imposing submersible drifted to a halt, and a hatched on the side hissed open. Red lights beamed out from the darkness within, and a few seconds later, an armored killbot marched down a boarding ramp, flanked by a towering man in a long white labcoat. He had a jagged streak of black through his otherwise gray hair, and wore heavy glasses with thick black lenses that obscured his gaze and shadowed his face.
“Hi dad,” Skye said.
“Hello dear,” said the man behind the murder machine. He stepped off the boarding ramp onto the dock, as another killbot exited to flank him, and fixed his dark glasses on Vell. “And as for you...I am Doc-”
“Doc” stopped his imposing introduction to have a coughing fit. Skye stepped up and put a hand on his shoulder.
“Dad, did you take your meds today?”
“I did, I did,” the Doc said, between coughs. “Just a climate thing. I got on the damn submarine in Seattle, now we’re in the tropics, there’s pressure differentials, humidity.”
He let out a few more coughs and then cleared his throat loudly, before regaining his previous composure.
“Now, as I was saying,” he continued. “I am Doc Ragnarok!”
His boisterous shout failed to echo in the open air of the docks.
“Oh, good lord, that was terrible,” Doc Ragnarok said. “Can I try again?”
“I wouldn’t bother,” Vell said. “We’re by the beach, open air, the acoustics are terrible.”
“Oh, yes, you’re right,” Doc Ragnarok agreed. “Finally, someone who appreciates the details. You must be Vell, then, or is it Agent Harlan? Do you have a codename I should be using?’
“It’s just Harlan. Vell Harlan.”
“Yes, Skye has told me quite a bit about you,” Doc said. “You’ve escaped kidnapping attempts, outwitted undead thieves, stolen secret treasures.”
“Oh, he’s, uh, also a really nice guy, very helpful, top student,” Skye said, laying groundwork for the eventual boyfriend reveal.
“I expect nothing less,” Doc Ragnarok said. “I can’t begin to tell you how excited I am to face off against someone with real credentials again, Mr. Harlan. For the past few decades it’s been nothing but greenhorns using me as a test run, well-trained but no experience, no sense of style.”
“Well, I am nothing if not experienced,” Vell said. “Stylish, however...well, this tuxedo is a rental.”
“I can tell,” Doc Ragnarok said. He let out a single boisterous bark of delighted laughter. “Ah, look at us, already bantering. I missed this.’
Doc cleared his throat again and regained his ominous supervillain demeanor, as he snapped his fingers to make the killbots flank him.
“I must begin my preparations,” he said, in a voice shockingly distinct from his earlier conversational tone. “Challenge me if you dare.”
“Excuse me a moment,” said a voice somewhere behind the killbots. Doc snapped his fingers, ordering the crowd to part again, and Helena hopped forward on her crutches. Skye glanced at Vell curiously, and he shrugged in confusion. She wasn’t supposed to be here, for multiple reasons.
“Can I help you?”
“Yes, I was just reading your book earlier, ‘Practically Evil: A Guide to Classic Villainy’,” Helena said. “It’s a great read, but what really stood out to me is the section on classic henchman archetypes, specifically ‘The Igor’?”
She held up the book in question, which Vell noted had a picture of Doc Ragnarok holding a skull on the cover, and opened it to the section in question.
“Oh yes, I understand, completely,” Doc Ragnarok said. “As I said in the section opener, that information is presented for historical context, and I strongly condemn the typecasting of differently-abled persons like yourself into such roles. Regardless of my intent, I’m sorry if I caused any offense, and if you have feedback-”
“Oh, no, you misunderstand, I’m not offended, I’m actually intrigued,” Helena said. She turned the book around to quote a specific passage. “‘An outcast, often hunchbacked or otherwise misshapen in such a way to make them a pariah, physically handicapped but mentally gifted, driven to evil by the harsh treatment of judgmental peers’. I think it’s a very fitting role for me, and I’d love to give it a try.”
Vell had several very strong opinions about that, but kept all of them to himself.
“Well, it’s a bit short notice, but I’ll never discourage anyone from following the path of evil,” Doc Ragnarok said. “And this is a training exercise, after all, perfect time for you to train. Come along, minion! The more the merrier!”
Doc Ragnarok snapped his fingers again, and the killbots fell in line, this time with Helena in tow. A procession of smaller robots followed, carrying a worrying number of power cores, ray guns, and mutagens. Not for the first time, Vell began to wonder if this was a good idea. The recurring doubts got obliterated as Skye looked over her shoulder and winked. She was worth a lot more trouble than this.
2024.05.29 02:06 MantisAwakening Famous Cases: The Scole Experiment
This is going to be the first of a number of posts on famous cases of paranormal phenomenon. Looking at the posts on this subreddit makes it easy to forget some of the real mysteries that have been documented over the decades. We’re going to start with one of my favorites, the Scole Experiment.
The Scole Experiment, conducted from 1993 to 1998 in the village of Scole, Norfolk, England, and is one of the most well-documented and controversial series of séances in the history of paranormal research. Named after its location, the experiment aimed to provide substantial evidence of life after death through physical mediumship (mediumship producing physical phenomenon).
The Scole Experiment was distinctive in its approach, combining traditional séance methods with modern (at the time) recording equipment. The sessions were typically held in a darkened cellar beneath the Foys' house, with participants sitting around a table. The primary goal was to establish communication with spirits and capture physical phenomena that could be rigorously tested and verified.
One of the first types of phenomena reported during the Scole Experiment was the appearance of lights. These lights, described as bright, darting, and often colorful, would move around the room, sometimes responding to requests from participants. The lights were said to exhibit intelligent behavior, changing direction, and interacting with objects and people in the room.
In addition to lights, the experiment also produced numerous instances of “apports,” which are objects that supposedly materialize from thin air. These objects included old coins, gemstones, and even a small crystal. One particularly remarkable instance involved the appearance of a newspaper from 1944, which was said to be in pristine condition despite its age:
Audio phenomena were also a crucial part of the Scole Experiment. Voices were frequently heard, sometimes through direct voice communication where the sounds seemed to emanate from the air rather than from the mediums. These voices would converse with the participants, providing information and answering questions. Additionally, anomalous sounds such as music and unexplained knocking were often reported.
Photographic evidence also played a significant role in the Scole Experiment. The group used both traditional film cameras and infrared video cameras to capture images during the séances. Numerous photographs were developed that appeared to show faces, scenes, and symbolic images. Some of these images were obtained under conditions designed to eliminate the possibility of fraud, such as sealed film canisters that were only opened and developed in the presence of independent witnesses.
One of the most striking aspects of the Scole Experiment was the variety of spirit communication methods employed. These included automatic writing, where spirits were said to control the hand of a medium to produce written messages, and direct writing, where messages appeared on pieces of paper without any apparent physical cause. The group also reported instances of materialized hands that would touch and interact with the participants.
Throughout the duration of the experiment, the Scole Group maintained a detailed log of the sessions, meticulously documenting the phenomena and the conditions under which they occurred. Independent investigators from the SPR, including respected researchers Montague Keen, David Fontana, and Arthur Ellison, attended many of the sessions. These investigators reported witnessing the phenomena firsthand and concluded that the events could not be easily dismissed or explained by conventional means.
One particularly controversial piece of evidence involved the locking of sealed rolls of film in a box which were later developed and shown to contain images exposed across multiple frames, which would only be possible by removing the film from the roll entirely:
However, Dunning leaves out additional information which complicates matters:
Despite the extensive documentation and the involvement of reputable researchers, the Scole Experiment has faced significant criticism and skepticism. Critics argue that the conditions of the séances, particularly the dark environment, were conducive to trickery and sleight of hand. They suggest that the phenomena could have been produced by the participants themselves, either intentionally or unconsciously, through techniques commonly used by stage magicians—although throughout the thorough investigations no one was ever able to prove any such trickery actually occurred.
This case can’t be summed up in a single documentary or debunking. I encourage anyone who is interested to read the full report and consider the great lengths that investigators went to in order to try and determine the true cause. Uptimately, the ambiguous nature of parapsychological phenomenon means that what one ultimately chooses to believe about the case is going to come down to a matter of faith, not facts.
https://www.thescoleexperiment.com
https://psi-encyclopedia.spr.ac.uk/articles/scole-circle
A full-length documentary: https://vimeo.com/573225843
Book: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/1189806.The_Scole_Experiment
submitted by MantisAwakening to Paranormal [link] [comments]
The Scole Experiment, conducted from 1993 to 1998 in the village of Scole, Norfolk, England, and is one of the most well-documented and controversial series of séances in the history of paranormal research. Named after its location, the experiment aimed to provide substantial evidence of life after death through physical mediumship (mediumship producing physical phenomenon).
The Scole Experiment was distinctive in its approach, combining traditional séance methods with modern (at the time) recording equipment. The sessions were typically held in a darkened cellar beneath the Foys' house, with participants sitting around a table. The primary goal was to establish communication with spirits and capture physical phenomena that could be rigorously tested and verified.
One of the first types of phenomena reported during the Scole Experiment was the appearance of lights. These lights, described as bright, darting, and often colorful, would move around the room, sometimes responding to requests from participants. The lights were said to exhibit intelligent behavior, changing direction, and interacting with objects and people in the room.
In addition to lights, the experiment also produced numerous instances of “apports,” which are objects that supposedly materialize from thin air. These objects included old coins, gemstones, and even a small crystal. One particularly remarkable instance involved the appearance of a newspaper from 1944, which was said to be in pristine condition despite its age:
Accordingly MK took the paper to the Print Industries Research Association, a world authority on paper and printing, who informed him in due course that their detailed examination of the typeface demonstrated that it had been printed by letterpress, a long-since obsolete technique. Furthermore, their chemical analysis of the paper on which the apport was printed revealed it to be Second World War newsprint, long since unavailable. In his further investigations MK ascertained that the apported version differed from the copy of the Daily Mail for April 1st 1944 kept in the British Library only in that it was an earlier edition of that day's print run.The apports often seemed to have specific significance or connections to the participants or the spirits they were purportedly in contact with.
Audio phenomena were also a crucial part of the Scole Experiment. Voices were frequently heard, sometimes through direct voice communication where the sounds seemed to emanate from the air rather than from the mediums. These voices would converse with the participants, providing information and answering questions. Additionally, anomalous sounds such as music and unexplained knocking were often reported.
Photographic evidence also played a significant role in the Scole Experiment. The group used both traditional film cameras and infrared video cameras to capture images during the séances. Numerous photographs were developed that appeared to show faces, scenes, and symbolic images. Some of these images were obtained under conditions designed to eliminate the possibility of fraud, such as sealed film canisters that were only opened and developed in the presence of independent witnesses.
One of the most striking aspects of the Scole Experiment was the variety of spirit communication methods employed. These included automatic writing, where spirits were said to control the hand of a medium to produce written messages, and direct writing, where messages appeared on pieces of paper without any apparent physical cause. The group also reported instances of materialized hands that would touch and interact with the participants.
Throughout the duration of the experiment, the Scole Group maintained a detailed log of the sessions, meticulously documenting the phenomena and the conditions under which they occurred. Independent investigators from the SPR, including respected researchers Montague Keen, David Fontana, and Arthur Ellison, attended many of the sessions. These investigators reported witnessing the phenomena firsthand and concluded that the events could not be easily dismissed or explained by conventional means.
One particularly controversial piece of evidence involved the locking of sealed rolls of film in a box which were later developed and shown to contain images exposed across multiple frames, which would only be possible by removing the film from the roll entirely:
Walter describes how he bought a roll of film, put the unopened film in the locked security box, and held the box in his hands throughout the session, neither putting it on the table nor allowing anyone else to touch it. He then supervised the development procedure. Despite the film he purchased being unopened and in a locked box in Walter's hand for the whole session, there was writing along the length of the film in the form a German poem.Modern-day researcher Brian Dunning asserts that the box was vulnerable to tampering:
One of the investigators, Alan Gauld, wrote critically of how he discovered this locked box could be quickly and easily opened in the dark, which allowed for easy substitution of film rolls. This box was provided by the mediums. Whenever any other sealed container was used, no images ever appeared on the film. Yet even while acknowledging these facts, the authors of the Scole Report still maintain that the film images are most likely evidence of the supernatural.Source: https://skeptoid.com/episodes/4179
However, Dunning leaves out additional information which complicates matters:
Just over three years later he came from Germany to the Scole Study Day to give an eloquent and concise (under-five-minute) account of the exact design of the box (he is a leading engineer) and the exact way in which he had held it during the experiment: three fingers pressed against one side; his thumb against another; his index finger on the top face; his palm covering the lock; the base resting firmly on the table. Only the side facing away from him (the base excepted) was uncovered by any part of his hand, and this side was slotted into the box from above and could not be removed without first dismantling the box from the top.Source: https://www.thescoleexperiment.com/rosalind-oliver-the-scole-experiments-an-overview.html
Despite the extensive documentation and the involvement of reputable researchers, the Scole Experiment has faced significant criticism and skepticism. Critics argue that the conditions of the séances, particularly the dark environment, were conducive to trickery and sleight of hand. They suggest that the phenomena could have been produced by the participants themselves, either intentionally or unconsciously, through techniques commonly used by stage magicians—although throughout the thorough investigations no one was ever able to prove any such trickery actually occurred.
This case can’t be summed up in a single documentary or debunking. I encourage anyone who is interested to read the full report and consider the great lengths that investigators went to in order to try and determine the true cause. Uptimately, the ambiguous nature of parapsychological phenomenon means that what one ultimately chooses to believe about the case is going to come down to a matter of faith, not facts.
https://www.thescoleexperiment.com
https://psi-encyclopedia.spr.ac.uk/articles/scole-circle
A full-length documentary: https://vimeo.com/573225843
Book: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/1189806.The_Scole_Experiment
2024.05.29 01:49 nivthefox Alyssa's Tale, Ch. 1 and 2 (2nd Draft, Critique Wanted)
Chapter 1
Alyssa awoke with saltwater in her mouth and nose. She hacked and sputtered, only to realize she was sinking deeper into a pitch dark pool. She closed her eyes against the water's sting, and as her panic rose she flailed with arms and legs. She was desperate to regain bouyancy, even as she choked out the brine from her burning lungs. Determined, she broke to the surface again, gulping in air between ragged coughs as she fought to stay afloat.Treading water, she opened her eyes and nothing changed. The darkness in the echoing chamber was complete, and she had to fight down another surge of panic as she took in the precariousness of her situation. The cold water sapped her strength, and her heart raced as a sudden scream of terror welled up from within.
Alyssa winced as her own scream echoed in her ears. She choked out the last of the salty water, then took a deep breath, trying to force herself to calm. "Okay, okay," she soothed herself, voice trembling slightly despite her efforts, "we're okay."
After another steadying breath, Alyssa began building a mental catalog of her situation. Her clothes were soaked through, but she wasn't finding treading water to be too difficult, yet; a future problem. Other than her lungs, nothing hurt, and those were recovering. She could still feel her toes and fingers on both hands, meaning no paralysis, that she could find. Nothing seemed to be seriously wrong, except that she had no idea how she'd come to be in a pitch dark echoing chamber filled with water.
Calmer, now, Alyssa tried to recall what she had been doing. The last thing she remembered was walking along the shoreline, feeling immensely lonely. The sound of the waves coming in, closer and closer, was still vivid in her mind. She could still remember the coarse feeling of the sand between her toes. The saltwater air had filled her lungs as she wondered how she could be in such a beautiful place, and still feel so sorry for herself. With a bitter laugh, Alyssa lolled her head back in the water and stared into the endless void. Well she certainly had reason to feel sorry for herself, now. Still, the memory of how she came to be here was distressingly absent.
Drip … Drip … Drop.
As her adrenaline faded, Alyssa could hear the slow, steady fall of water into the pool. Was the water level rising? She couldn't tell without knowing more about the chamber she was in. Determined to push back against her growing despair, Alyssa decided to explore her environment more thoroughly. A shiver coursed through her spine as she felt out to either side as far as her arms would go and couldn't find a wall, nor did she find purchase beneath her feet. After a moment of hesitation, Alyssa expanded her search. She swam forward, keeping her hands ahead of herself.
She didn't have to go far before she bumped into an uneven stone surface. Alyssa wasn't sure in the dark, but judging by the smoothness of the rock she guessed it was some kind of river stone. She followed the stone wall around for a ways before deciding it was curved inward. Pushing off, Alyssa turned and reached for the other side, then followed along the wall and repeated the crossing a few more times. She decided that the cavern was roughly circular, perhaps half again as wide as her armspan at its widest stretch, though without light she couldn't be certain she had ever crossed it straight. She considered her options as she clung to the side of the chamber.
Drip … Drip … Drop.
The steady sound was maddening in its repetition, and Alyssa let out a huff of annoyance. Thinking on it, though, she was sure the water had been steadily falling into the chamber the entire time she was here, and she didn't think the water level had risen. Not that she had any way to really know for certain, but if she was right, it implied there was some way for the water to get back out. Could she get out the same way? Taking a deep breath, Alyssa ducked beneath the surface and swam down. Her kicks were hindered by her sodden skirt, but following along the cavern wall as she descended, Alyssa felt the cavern floor after a depth of maybe twice her height. Ten feet wasn't even as deep as most home swimming pools.
Alyssa gulped down air as she returned to the surface, thinking hard about what she'd found. Another shiver coursed through her veins just before she dove down to explore the bottom further. Like the walls, it was uneven but smooth. She could feel some small cracks, and feel the water rushing past her fingers near one or two of these. That, then, was where the water was escaping to. Frustrated, she resurfaced one more and banged her fist against the stone wall. "Damnit." She knew she wouldn't be swimming her way out of here.
For the third time, Alyssa shivered, and she realised that she was starting to lose feeling in her toes. The water temperature wasn't frigid, but she could feel it sapping her strength. Was it ninety-six degrees for hypothermia? Ninety-five? She couldn't recall, but it wasn't important, without a thermometer. She was going to die, here, if she didn't find a way out, and soon.
Drip … Drip … Drop.
Straining, she tried to focus on the sounds around her once more. The incessant dripping of the cave was her only remaining hope of finding a way out, and she had no idea how to reach the ceiling. Alyssa squeezed her toes in an attempt to restore some feeling, while she thought about the problem. After a moment, she began exploring the cavern walls again, this time searching for something to stand on rather than just learning about her environment. After a few turns about the chamber, she found a small shelf just a few feet beneath the surface, large enough for her to put a single foot on.
She pushed herself up, trying to go slowly as she felt along the wall for anything to grip onto. She couldn't find purchase before her momentum carried her too far from the wall, but she did feel roughly how high the ceiling was just before she splashed back into the pool. "Yes!" she celebrated the small victory as she surfaced, fueling her hopes of an escape with that realization that she could probably wedge herself between the ceiling and the shelf if she was purposeful about it.
Returning to the wall, she tamped down on the urge to shiver again, then surged straight up, putting her hands above her to try and catch the ceiling. Water cascaded around her in a torrent, her water-logged clothing threatening to drag her back to the depths, but she held on until she was steady. Alyssa allowed herself a small smile for her success, though some part of her thought it felt more like a grimace, before she began feeling along the cavern ceiling with her hands. Like the rest of the chamber, the stone was smooth and uneven, but it had sharper protrusions here and there that might serve as handholds. Alyssa was reminded of the wall climb at the local mall. She'd never been great at it, despite her friends dragging her to try it every other weekend during high school.
As she continued exploring the ceiling, another involuntary shiver wracked her body, and she set her teeth against the growing chill. "I'm going to get out," she promised herself, just as her hand found open air where she'd expected stone. She nearly fell, but she caught herself and explored the edges of the hole. She couldn't even reach the entire thing from her perch! The ledge was rugged and sharp, and just barely far enough from the wall that she had to strain to reach it. She explored as far around the hole as she could, certain it was large enough for her to fit through. Excited, Alyssa grabbed onto the ledge with both hands and tried to pull herself up, but her grip wasn't solid enough. She immediately slipped back into the water with another splash.
Alyssa surfaced with a growl, feeling a surge of determination and stubbornness. Reclaiming her perch on the shelf, she pushed up to the roof of the chamber once more. This time she knew her target, so rather than wasting time and grip with exploration, she just focused on steadying herself, there. After a few breaths, she reached up to grab the ledge again, trying to find solid hand-holds.
As she swung out from the wall, her sodden skirt trailed through the water, weighing her down. She held on for longer this time, uttering a harsh noise as she strained to pull herself up. She managed to get her chin to her fingers before her grip failed her again, and the feeling of freefall sent her heart thrilling before she splashed into the cool water once more.
When she surfaced, Alyssa let out a frustrated growl. "I had it!" she admonished herself, before finding the ledge once more. A third time, her efforts were fouled and she fell into the water. In frustration, she peeled her skirt off her legs and abandoned it to the murky brine. With the drag gone, she had an easier time holding onto the ledge, and on her fourth attempt she nearly managed to pull herself all the way up before her arms gave out and she slipped back into the water with yet another scream of frustration.
She knew she was close, but she obviously wasn't going to make progress while her muscles were burning with fatigue. Floating on her back, Alyssa glared up into the darkness as her emotions swirled around her, threatening to drag her into despair. Hope and frustration warred within her, each trying to gain the upper hand. She clung onto the determination that she had almost made it, but as she dwelled on the problem above her, doubts began to surface. What if she couldn’t pull herself out? What if there wasn’t a way out above?
Anger surged through her at that thought, hot and fierce. She refused to accept that fate. Closing her eyes, she focused on the anger and used it as fuel for her resolve. She just needed a moment to catch her breath, relax her muscles, and try again. She was going to get out.
When she swung out for the fifth time, Alyssa’s fingers gripped tightly to the rock above. She pulled herself up into the black with a roar of determination and frustration. She got her chest over the lip, then reached one arm forward hastily in search of a better hold. She found purchase, then pulled a leg up and got one foot on the ledge. With a scream of exultation, she pushed herself the rest of the way out of the chamber and into the tunnels above.
With a feral noise of triumph, Alyssa slid onto the cool, damp stone of the tunnel, then rolled onto her back and lay gasping for air. Her muscles were twitching, and she was still cold, but she was no longer in the water, and that was a massive improvement, even if the dark and damp of the unknown was around her.
Carefully, she crawled forward on hands and knees, every movement an effort. She could feel the edge of the hole she’d just emerged from, but that was obviously a deadend. Instead, she pressed on, hunting for an alternative. The rough stone scraped against her palms and knees as she inched along, her progress painfully slow.
The cavern descended, and Alyssa's heart sank when her hand plunged into another pool of water. She pulled back, relieved that the bank was shallow enough she could easily get back out of this pool. Nevertheless, she paused to consider her options, then turned to explore in the opposite direction. After several minutes of fruitless searching, she realized that the water-filled passage was her only way forward.
Alyssa let out a heavy sigh of frustration as she lowered herself into the tepid water. She gritted her teeth as the cold crept back into her bones, but willed herself to keep moving. The tunnel continued its descent, and soon the ceiling plunged into the pool, forcing her to submerge if she wanted to continue. Alyssa hesitated, barely holding back her desperate tears. Swimming blindly through the flooded passage seemed like madness, but what choice did she have?
Taking a deep, gasping breath, Alyssa plunged beneath the surface and swam forward with powerful kicks of her legs. She kept one hand on the stone above and the other stretched out in front of her, searching for obstacles. As her lungs began to burn with the need for oxygen, panic threatened to overwhelm her. What if the tunnel never resurfaced? If she went much further, she was certain she would not be able to make it back. Still, she had no alternatives; no other way to proceed. So she swam forward into the unknown, gambling her life on an exit while desperately ignoring the growing panic in the back of her mind.
A subtle glow in the murky water caught Alyssa’s attention, and the tunnel veered sharply upward. Desperate for air, she kicked towards the light, discarding caution as she propelled herself forward and up with both arms and legs. Hope surged through her as she swam towards the surface.
When she emerged from the water, gasping and sputtering for air, Alyssa let out a cry of relief. Mushrooms! Glowing mushrooms filled the room, their glow dim but omnipresent. She marveled, letting out a delighted laugh at the sight of the water’s reflection erupting into a cascade of colors on the cavern ceiling. Alyssa took a deep breath, and although the air was musty and stale, it had a sharpness and movement to it that the previous chamber hadn’t. Where there were mushrooms there was life, and where there was wind there was an exit. For the first time in hours, Alyssa smiled, as she pulled herself out of the pool onto the bank.
Chapter 2
For the second time in several hours, Alyssa lay on the ground catching her breath and allowing her muscles to relax. The swim through the watery airlock–she couldn’t think of any other way to describe that tunnel–had been far more mentally taxing than the physical exertion of pulling herself up out of the first chamber. Nevertheless, it required a great deal of effort and she was exhausted.As she lay on her back, Alyssa tried again to remember how she got here. She remembered vividly her walk on the beach, and then … water. There was nothing in between. She wasn't even sure how much time had passed, but judging by the way her stomach was starting to groan in protest, and by the fullness of her bladder, she was fairly sure it had been several hours. On the other hand, she could account for at least two of those since she found herself in the chamber, unless her estimate of time was very off.
Her deliberations were cut short by a small squeaking noise, not far away. Alyssa eased herself up and turned towards the noise. There in the field of mushrooms was a small white and brown mouse, cast in an eerie glow by the mushroom's bioluminescence. Alyssa watched in awe as the mouse nibbled on the mushrooms, waiting to see what would happen. She didn't know enough about mushrooms to judge their safety for herself, but if the mouse could eat them, she figured they were probably safe for her to try, as well. After all, weren't mice used for drug testing all the time?
The mouse seemed oblivious to Alyssa’s presence, and she held her breath as best she could while she counted the seconds, trying to decide how long she should wait before trusting the results. Hours, probably, if she was honest with herself. Just when she was about to give up on the idea, a sudden movement caught her eye. Beyond the mouse, swift as could be, a slithering figure stole towards the unsuspecting rodent. “No!” she called, and her hand found a rock. Hastily, she threw it towards the onrushing creature. The rock went wide, but the serpent’s stealth was spoiled, and the mouse quickly darted away from its assailant, deeper into the mushrooms.
The snake let out a hiss of annoyance, and Alyssa was briefly overwhelmed by a sudden feeling of immense displeasure. She wasn’t surprised the snake was annoyed, but the sheer vehemence she felt was almost as if sensing her own emotions. Its lunch foiled, the serpent turned and slithered away, leaving Alyssa and the mouse alone in the chamber once again.
Alyssa waited, still and quiet, as the chamber settled back into silence. She wondered whether the little mouse had escaped the field of mushrooms entirely, or if it was still here. But something told her to wait; a sense of hesitance and uncertainty that felt sourceless and yet compelling.
Eventually, her patience paid off, and the little mouse poked its head back out of the mushrooms, staring after the snake. It emitted a soft, hesitant noise, then furtively darted out of the field into the open. There, it paused to stare up at Alyssa, studying her with a raw curiosity that nearly overwhelmed Alyssa as much as the snake’s displeasure had. She also sensed gratitude from the little mouse, though how she knew that’s what it was feeling she could not say.
“Are you hurt?” she hazarded, as she leaned in towards the mouse. The little creature took a quick step back, and the curiosity was immediately replaced by uncertainty.
Alyssa straightened up to give the mouse space. The feeling of uncertainty slowly faded, and she tilted her head in curiosity. “Why can I sense what you're feeling?” she asked the mouse, though of course she knew it would not reply.
The mouse watched her for several more moments before taking a single daring step forward. Alyssa sat very still, and after another moment it took a few more steps towards her. Soon, it was near to her knee, its little nose twitching incessantly as it sniffed at her dampened skin.
“I’m afraid I don’t have any food on me,” Alyssa said, still not moving but to talk. The mouse sat back and stood up on its hind legs to peer up at her. Alyssa could sense its curiosity turn to acceptance, and then, before she could protest, the little mouse leapt up onto her leg. She gasped in startlement, surprised at the feel of its soft fur and the tickle of its little claws brushing against her bare skin.
When it reached her hip, the mouse scurried under her tee shirt, and Alyssa made a choking noise of displeasure as it crawled, with quick movements, up her back and out of the tattered collar. When it came to rest on her shoulder, Alyssa held her breath, not daring to move. She watched the mouse out of the side of her eye, and a sense of appreciation flooded into her perception. Slowly, she turned her head to see the mouse staring at her. With a twitch of its whiskers, the little creature poked its nose against her cheek, cool and damp, before turning to look at the mushrooms.
“You think they will be safe for me?” she asked quietly, as she turned to follow the mouse’s gaze. “But raw mushrooms …” she complained, with some disdain. The mouse touched its nose to her cheek once more, and Alyssa sensed insistence. With a sigh, she mumbled, “Why am I trusting a mouse?” before ever so slowly–so as not to dislodge her guest–she leaned forward to collect a handful of the morsels.
Alyssa straightened and studied her collection of mushrooms thoughtfully. Arranging them by size, she selected the smallest and glanced at the mouse out of the corner of her eye once more. "You're sure about this?" she asked, her voice echoing in the damp cavern. The mouse couldn't speak, of course, but Alyssa felt a strong sense of certainty from her tiny companion. Or maybe that was just the discomfort of hypothermia, exhaustion and her painfully full bladder talking.
Hesitantly, Alyssa popped the smallest mushroom into her mouth. It had a surprisingly rich, earthy flavor, reminiscent of the forest after a rainstorm. As she chewed, the spongy texture yielded, releasing a burst of liquid that filled her mouth with a strange, electric tingle. The sensation was not unpleasant, but definitely unfamiliar. She swallowed, marveling at how easily it went down despite her reservations.
Emboldened by the lack of immediate ill effects, Alyssa quickly consumed the other mushrooms. With each one, the tingling sensation spread, until her whole body hummed with a kind of vibrant, restless energy.
Cupping her hands together, Alyssa scooped up some of the cool water and drank deeply. The liquid soothed her throat, but did nothing to quell the building sense of excitement and unease. She leaned back against the rock, trying to steady herself as the mushrooms’ effects took hold.
It wasn't hallucinations, but a profound shift in Alyssa's perception. The cave seemed to come alive around her; the rocks and water pulsed with a subtle, resonant energy. She felt a surge of confidence and clarity, as if a veil had been lifted from her eyes. With trembling hands, she tore a strip from the bottom of her t-shirt and fashioned it into a makeshift pouch. She wasn't sure what lay ahead, but having a source of food could prove useful. She filled the pouch to the brim with the glowing caps, marveling at their strangeness, before tying it securely to her hip.
"Okay," Alyssa whispered, her voice sounding strangely amplified to her own ears. "I guess we follow the snake." The thought of the serpent sent a ripple of fear through her companion, but she reassured him, "Don't worry, I won't let it get you." The little mouse was still afraid, but it seemed to understand her meaning, and nestled up against her neck, soft fur gentle on her skin.
With a deep breath, Alyssa rolled to her knees and stood, her legs trembling slightly. The mouse clung to her, its small heartbeat echoing her own. Alyssa could feel its mix of curiosity and trepidation, mirroring her own complex emotions. "Come on," she muttered, "let's go." She started forward into the gloom, following the serpent's path and the promise of fresh air. Using the glowing bundle on her hip as a makeshift light, Alyssa navigated the narrow tunnels with confidence. Her bare feet found easy purchase on the cool, damp stone. She progressed at a much more comfortable pace than the slow, exploratory crawl she'd been limited to in the submerged chamber. As she followed the winding tunnel, it sloped gradually upwards, and a light fog crept in, curling around her ankles. Alyssa's heart quickened. She dared to believe she was nearing open air, and a potential end to this nightmare.
Yet even as hope blossomed in her chest, each step brought a growing unease from the small, furry companion on Alyssa's shoulder. The mouse huddled closer to her neck, its nose twitching incessantly. As they rounded a corner, a new scent filled Alyssa's nostrils: earthy mud and a hint of ozone, in stark contrast to the mineral-rich dampness of the caverns. The tunnel widened sharply ahead, seeming to fall away into a murky expanse. Through the haze, the silhouette of a massive tree trunk promised an escape from what she had almost believed might be her tomb.
"We made it," Alyssa breathed, a swell of triumph surging through her. The mushrooms' influence still thrummed in her veins, confidence mingling with her own burgeoning anticipation. She quickened her pace, emerging from the cave mouth into the cool, damp air. Alyssa paused there, one hand on the stone wall, as she breathed in the scent of her freedom.
A twilit forest stretched out before her, dotted with towering trees that reached for an unfamiliar sky. Alyssa tilted her head back, marveling at the stars glimmering above. Their patterns were strange, yet mesmerizing; their strangeness only matched by the comfort they brought her. Alyssa knew the constellations were wrong; that they matched nothing she'd ever seen before, but right now all that mattered was the comfort in knowing that she would not die in that cave.
A squeak of pure terror from the mouse jolted Alyssa from her reverie. The force of her companion's fear nearly knocked the wind from her. Alyssa swiftly sought the source of the mouse's fear. There, beside the nearest tree, stood a tall, gaunt figure, a serpent slithering up its leg. The figure's cold blue eyes glared at Alyssa with a chilling intensity.
As the snake continued its ascent, the figure lifted a hand, guiding the snake to wrap about its too-long neck. Subtle, thorny protrusions emerged from the figure's chin, and the snake rubbed itself against them, hissing as it impressed its displeasure upon the figure, no doubt casting Alyssa as the villain in its tale.
"H-hello," Alyssa stammered, suddenly acutely aware of her vulnerability. She took a guarded step back and brought her hands up defensively. The figure's presence was oppressive, suffocating. Even in her desperation, Alyssa knew she wanted no part of any help they might offer. Still, she needed time to think. She had to find a way past them without provoking their ire, and an attempt at being polite was all she could come up with in the moment.
The figure spoke, its voice a grating rattle. "You have violated the ancient agreement, and trespassed beyond the barrier." Alyssa was sure she didn't know what any of that meant, but before she could say so, the figure continued, "There are consequences for your meddling, child, and I am come to deliver them."
2024.05.29 01:46 cgstories Odd Pete (part 2)
Previous part
Before I go on with the story, I wanted to mention that I finally got around to checking my text messages. I shouldn’t be surprised that all of them were furious. I don’t blame them. I’m still distraught about the whole situation. I pretty much lost all of my friends in one day; all because I thought that a little boy’s doll would come to life and... well...
Just, listen to me.
I know that all of this will sound insane. But everything I am about to tell you happened before. I feel like I can’t bring myself to even think of the moment, let alone tell you, but I need to press on. It is time that you understand the moment that everything changed forever—Pete's 11th birthday party.
What happened on that day plays over and over again in my mind. It doesn’t matter that 30 years have passed. Not a night goes by where I am wrenched from my beleaguered sleep and find myself gasping for air in a pool of my own sweat. Years of broken sleep will get to a person over time. And so, I grew agitated and depressed. I was on and off on medication, and in and out of therapy.
Now, I don’t always freak out when I see them in pictures or on display in a shop’s front window. If I keep my distance and they keep theirs, I am fine. I mean, my breathing would quicken, and my heart would pump hard, but the moment would pass, and I’d come back to some level of normalcy. I’ve got my own way to deal with such a situation. I’d close my eyes and count from 100 to zero, deeply breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth, before slowly turning and walking away.
Oh, right. I guess you want to hear what happened.
XXXXX
Pete and his family lived in a massive two-story house with an acre of forestry within their property line. The house was miles outside of town. It was cozy but isolated.
I carpooled with Andy and his parents. We met up with Mark and his dad in the house. Our jaws dropped at how beautiful the house and their property were; none of us had ever been to such a fancy place.
Andy’s mom mentioned in the car that what she heard from the other moms was that Pete’s dad, George, worked as an inventor and toymaker for a company that no one had heard of, and his mom, Wendy, was a stay-at-home mom. She had tried to invite her out for coffee with the other moms. In the end she decided not to. Wendy’s presence was just too off-putting.
“She wouldn’t stop smiling,” Andy’s mom recalled, “and she’d just nod her head without saying anything. Not a word. And she moved in this very odd, kind of funny way, too. Like she didn’t know how to use her arms or legs.”
Kind of like how Pete was on his first day of class.
The family greeted the guests in the foyer with excited eyes and gaping smiles. They were the picture perfect of a 1950s TV sitcom family. Pete had on a blue and yellow checkered suit with a yellow bowtie. George also wore the same style of suit but with a blue tie. His outfit was topped with a tobacco pipe hanging at the side of his mouth. Wendy had on a yellow dress with a blue ribbon tied around her waist, and her flaming red hair rolled up in a bouffant hairstyle.
There were a couple of dozens of us that showed up to the party. Most of the parents came along, too. My mom couldn’t come; she was stuck at the restaurant picking up someone else’s shift. That was to say nothing of her continued fear and suspicion about the whole kidnapper situation. She believed they were still out there, and that the cops had gotten the wrong person.
Everyone was led into a banquet hall where a great feast waited for us. We stuffed ourselves until the buttons on our pants threatened to burst. Fat roasted turkey thighs, mince pies, green bean casserole, mashed potatoes smothered in gravy, a mountain of steaming sweet biscuits. The choices were endless. And the moms and dads enjoyed themselves, drinking the wine that Wendy, smiling emptily and silently, served.
George went around telling stories to anyone who’d be willing to listen. He was incredibly intelligent with a wide breadth of knowledge of world history. He spoke about historical events as if he’d been there himself, describing in such vivid detail of the event’s atmosphere like how the heaviness of grief weighed in the air at Alexander the Great’s funeral procession, and how frigid cold the Russian winter was in 1812 when Napoleon Bonaparte’s army marched towards Moscow.
He showed us a room filled with his collection of ancient artifacts, even an American Civil War-era musket rifle with a Minie ball still lodged inside. But what caught my attention and raised the hairs on my body were three mummies behind a glass case. They were about my height and, judging by the smallness of their faces, they had died as children.
“Why do you have those?” I asked.
George grinned. “Well, why not?”
“Where’d you get them from?” asked Andy.
“Far and near...”
Squinting, Mark stepped up closer to the glass. “Are they real?”
“What do your eyes tell you?”
Together, we pressed our noses to the glass, staring hard at these mummies. Their skin was withered brown, and parts of their yellowed bone were exposed. They stared back at us with dark empty sockets and twisted mouths as though they’d come face to face with something more terrifying and terrible than death. None of the adults with us thought it weird that this family had such a collection. The moms and dads were starting to act a bit giddy and silly; it was the generous amount of wine they’d drunk, probably.
After a tour of George’s mini-home museum, we were led into an adjacent room filled with toys, clowns, dolls, and a bizarre collection of crossbred animals. A full train set wound about the length of the room and over our heads. This was Pete’s playroom, and George had designed every toy. This massive room with all the toys and games was more than what a child could dream of.
Unable to control ourselves, we got our hands on everything; we were a bunch of 10-year-olds after all. We played with the toys and shrieked with laughter. The moms and dads watched us as they drank the wine Wendy was serving them. Before we knew it, time flew by, and the sun had long since gone down. The grandfather clock struck 9 o’clock. But we weren’t tired; we wanted to play some more. So, we were thrilled when the grown-ups nodded and agreed to let us go on.
Shining with happiness, Pete announced that we were to play a special game, even the grown-ups would be involved.
“This game is called Catch the Souls!” he said. “The rules are quite simple. There are two types of players: souls and catchers. The game will be played both in the dark and in the light. Souls are safe in the light and the catchers won’t be able to move. But when the lights are off, souls better find a place to hide for the catchers will hunt you down and bring you to the king—me!"
“Then, how do we know if we’ve won?” I asked.
His eyes darkened as the pupils enlarged. “Well, when you see the sun rise, then you’ll know.” My stomach sank.
Were we really going to play all night?
I looked at the others to see if they also thought this was a ridiculous idea. Much to my surprise, the others buzzed with excitement, even the adults were eager to play. No one wanted to go home just yet. They wanted to play more. And, surprisingly, I wasn’t at all that tired or sleepy either. George ordered for the moms and dads to follow him into another room; they were to put on their “catcher” costumes.
Mark, Andy, and I decided to stick together. We figured that if we could find a good spot to hide out in, we could wait there until the game was over. At the beginning of the game, all the lights were on in every room and hallway, and Pete counted backwards from 100.
My friends and I bolted. We didn’t realize how huge the house was. It was like a never-ending labyrinth. One door would lead to nowhere except a brick wall, or a sudden drop into what looked like a bottomless pit. Andy had nearly fallen into one and was only saved when Mark and I caught him by the arms as he fell and clung desperately to the doorknob.
The hallways echoed with giggles of excitement. But once the lights began to flicker, the whole house plunged into darkness. We hurried into another room. I hid behind a desk, Mark behind a big tapestry, and Andy in the corner of the room squatting behind a tall vase.
We waited.
We held our breath.
A hair-raising scream erupted in another room. Followed by another, then another. Three in succession.
“What was that?” I heard Mark ask, shakily.
“What are you doing?” Andy cried.
Peeking around the corner of the desk, I spotted Mark out from his hiding spot and poking his head out the door. He quickly shut the door and scrambled back behind the tapestry. Before I could ask him what he saw, the door opened. My body instantly went rigid. I was terrified that if I were to move or breathe, I’d get caught. I certainly didn’t want to find out what Pete would do to me.
A tall, shadowy figure with two long pointed ears entered the room. It was a Catcher. It hopped slowly around the room like a rabbit, playing with the leaves of the plants in the tall vase and sniffing around the tapestry. Then it turned its attention to the desk. I scooted back underneath the desk and slapped my hand over my mouth, desperate not to make a sound. I heard it hop into the air before its feet landed gently on the floor right next to the desk. It took a step closer to the spot where I lay in a fetal position. I hoped that I was small enough that it wouldn’t notice me.
Light swept throughout the room. And I let out a breath of relief. We were safe when the lights were on. That was the rule of the game, I reminded myself. I crawled out from underneath the desk and froze as I came face to face with a giant pink bunny. I knew that inside the costume was a classmate’s parent. But there was something off about it, like it had no good intentions. It stared back with large black orbs for eyes. Its large buck teeth dripped droplets of red on the white carpet. Dark red chunks like mushed up beets fell from its mouth.
“Benjie! Don’t just stand there!” Mark pulled me out of the trance, and I ran out with them. At the end of the hallway, we saw another Catcher dressed in a court blue and yellow jester suit and mask.
The lights flickered; one minute warning for us to find another hiding spot. Without looking back, we ran and tried getting into another room. With utter mortification I learned that most of the doors were locked. Not only that, but others only led to dead ends. We went through one door that led to another hallway that stretched on endlessly with rows of doors on either side of us.
Behind us, the bells jingled on the dangling sleeves of the jester’s cap ‘n’ bells. It got closer and closer. Of course, I stupidly looked back. One by one the wall lights went out, and the laughing jester twirled and leapt its way to us.
We came to a door at the end of the hallway, but it wouldn’t budge. Andy banged on it and twisted the knob as hard as he could.
“I want to stop playing this game,” Mark sobbed. He backed into the corner, trembling and crying. A dark wet spot appeared in front of his pants. I also felt something wet and warm trickling down my pants.
The jester was approaching, inching closer and closer by the second. And then, it stopped. It squatted in the dark with its hands under its chin, gazing at us with its harrowing black eyes. The only thing keeping it from capturing us was that the light from a single wall lamp shielded us. Sniffling and wiping his tears away, Mark squeaked, “Dad?” He took a step forward with an outreached hand seeking a sliver of comfort.
“I don’t think he’s your dad,” I said, but my words didn’t reach him. The jester gestured with a single finger for him to come closer.
“I got it! Come on, guys!” Andy cried, happily, as the door finally swung inward with a hard kick revealing a lighted room. I grabbed hold of Mark’s arm, but he shook me off. And I watched in horror as he tugged on the jester’s mask and pulled it off.
It was Mark’s dad behind the mask. His smile was split so wide, I could see his gums bleed and the skin at the corners of his lips had torn. He was foaming heavily at the mouth like a rabid dog.
“Dad...” Mark uttered.
The wall light went out. And that was the last I saw of him.
XXXXX
I’ll have to continue with my story later. I need to eat something. I can’t remember the last time I did. The hunger is gnawing my stomach. There’s nothing in the fridge. I didn’t even get leftovers from my friend’s birthday party. It’s okay. All I need now is to feed this body.
submitted by cgstories to Odd_directions [link] [comments]
Before I go on with the story, I wanted to mention that I finally got around to checking my text messages. I shouldn’t be surprised that all of them were furious. I don’t blame them. I’m still distraught about the whole situation. I pretty much lost all of my friends in one day; all because I thought that a little boy’s doll would come to life and... well...
Just, listen to me.
I know that all of this will sound insane. But everything I am about to tell you happened before. I feel like I can’t bring myself to even think of the moment, let alone tell you, but I need to press on. It is time that you understand the moment that everything changed forever—Pete's 11th birthday party.
What happened on that day plays over and over again in my mind. It doesn’t matter that 30 years have passed. Not a night goes by where I am wrenched from my beleaguered sleep and find myself gasping for air in a pool of my own sweat. Years of broken sleep will get to a person over time. And so, I grew agitated and depressed. I was on and off on medication, and in and out of therapy.
Now, I don’t always freak out when I see them in pictures or on display in a shop’s front window. If I keep my distance and they keep theirs, I am fine. I mean, my breathing would quicken, and my heart would pump hard, but the moment would pass, and I’d come back to some level of normalcy. I’ve got my own way to deal with such a situation. I’d close my eyes and count from 100 to zero, deeply breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth, before slowly turning and walking away.
Oh, right. I guess you want to hear what happened.
XXXXX
Pete and his family lived in a massive two-story house with an acre of forestry within their property line. The house was miles outside of town. It was cozy but isolated.
I carpooled with Andy and his parents. We met up with Mark and his dad in the house. Our jaws dropped at how beautiful the house and their property were; none of us had ever been to such a fancy place.
Andy’s mom mentioned in the car that what she heard from the other moms was that Pete’s dad, George, worked as an inventor and toymaker for a company that no one had heard of, and his mom, Wendy, was a stay-at-home mom. She had tried to invite her out for coffee with the other moms. In the end she decided not to. Wendy’s presence was just too off-putting.
“She wouldn’t stop smiling,” Andy’s mom recalled, “and she’d just nod her head without saying anything. Not a word. And she moved in this very odd, kind of funny way, too. Like she didn’t know how to use her arms or legs.”
Kind of like how Pete was on his first day of class.
The family greeted the guests in the foyer with excited eyes and gaping smiles. They were the picture perfect of a 1950s TV sitcom family. Pete had on a blue and yellow checkered suit with a yellow bowtie. George also wore the same style of suit but with a blue tie. His outfit was topped with a tobacco pipe hanging at the side of his mouth. Wendy had on a yellow dress with a blue ribbon tied around her waist, and her flaming red hair rolled up in a bouffant hairstyle.
There were a couple of dozens of us that showed up to the party. Most of the parents came along, too. My mom couldn’t come; she was stuck at the restaurant picking up someone else’s shift. That was to say nothing of her continued fear and suspicion about the whole kidnapper situation. She believed they were still out there, and that the cops had gotten the wrong person.
Everyone was led into a banquet hall where a great feast waited for us. We stuffed ourselves until the buttons on our pants threatened to burst. Fat roasted turkey thighs, mince pies, green bean casserole, mashed potatoes smothered in gravy, a mountain of steaming sweet biscuits. The choices were endless. And the moms and dads enjoyed themselves, drinking the wine that Wendy, smiling emptily and silently, served.
George went around telling stories to anyone who’d be willing to listen. He was incredibly intelligent with a wide breadth of knowledge of world history. He spoke about historical events as if he’d been there himself, describing in such vivid detail of the event’s atmosphere like how the heaviness of grief weighed in the air at Alexander the Great’s funeral procession, and how frigid cold the Russian winter was in 1812 when Napoleon Bonaparte’s army marched towards Moscow.
He showed us a room filled with his collection of ancient artifacts, even an American Civil War-era musket rifle with a Minie ball still lodged inside. But what caught my attention and raised the hairs on my body were three mummies behind a glass case. They were about my height and, judging by the smallness of their faces, they had died as children.
“Why do you have those?” I asked.
George grinned. “Well, why not?”
“Where’d you get them from?” asked Andy.
“Far and near...”
Squinting, Mark stepped up closer to the glass. “Are they real?”
“What do your eyes tell you?”
Together, we pressed our noses to the glass, staring hard at these mummies. Their skin was withered brown, and parts of their yellowed bone were exposed. They stared back at us with dark empty sockets and twisted mouths as though they’d come face to face with something more terrifying and terrible than death. None of the adults with us thought it weird that this family had such a collection. The moms and dads were starting to act a bit giddy and silly; it was the generous amount of wine they’d drunk, probably.
After a tour of George’s mini-home museum, we were led into an adjacent room filled with toys, clowns, dolls, and a bizarre collection of crossbred animals. A full train set wound about the length of the room and over our heads. This was Pete’s playroom, and George had designed every toy. This massive room with all the toys and games was more than what a child could dream of.
Unable to control ourselves, we got our hands on everything; we were a bunch of 10-year-olds after all. We played with the toys and shrieked with laughter. The moms and dads watched us as they drank the wine Wendy was serving them. Before we knew it, time flew by, and the sun had long since gone down. The grandfather clock struck 9 o’clock. But we weren’t tired; we wanted to play some more. So, we were thrilled when the grown-ups nodded and agreed to let us go on.
Shining with happiness, Pete announced that we were to play a special game, even the grown-ups would be involved.
“This game is called Catch the Souls!” he said. “The rules are quite simple. There are two types of players: souls and catchers. The game will be played both in the dark and in the light. Souls are safe in the light and the catchers won’t be able to move. But when the lights are off, souls better find a place to hide for the catchers will hunt you down and bring you to the king—me!"
“Then, how do we know if we’ve won?” I asked.
His eyes darkened as the pupils enlarged. “Well, when you see the sun rise, then you’ll know.” My stomach sank.
Were we really going to play all night?
I looked at the others to see if they also thought this was a ridiculous idea. Much to my surprise, the others buzzed with excitement, even the adults were eager to play. No one wanted to go home just yet. They wanted to play more. And, surprisingly, I wasn’t at all that tired or sleepy either. George ordered for the moms and dads to follow him into another room; they were to put on their “catcher” costumes.
Mark, Andy, and I decided to stick together. We figured that if we could find a good spot to hide out in, we could wait there until the game was over. At the beginning of the game, all the lights were on in every room and hallway, and Pete counted backwards from 100.
My friends and I bolted. We didn’t realize how huge the house was. It was like a never-ending labyrinth. One door would lead to nowhere except a brick wall, or a sudden drop into what looked like a bottomless pit. Andy had nearly fallen into one and was only saved when Mark and I caught him by the arms as he fell and clung desperately to the doorknob.
The hallways echoed with giggles of excitement. But once the lights began to flicker, the whole house plunged into darkness. We hurried into another room. I hid behind a desk, Mark behind a big tapestry, and Andy in the corner of the room squatting behind a tall vase.
We waited.
We held our breath.
A hair-raising scream erupted in another room. Followed by another, then another. Three in succession.
“What was that?” I heard Mark ask, shakily.
“What are you doing?” Andy cried.
Peeking around the corner of the desk, I spotted Mark out from his hiding spot and poking his head out the door. He quickly shut the door and scrambled back behind the tapestry. Before I could ask him what he saw, the door opened. My body instantly went rigid. I was terrified that if I were to move or breathe, I’d get caught. I certainly didn’t want to find out what Pete would do to me.
A tall, shadowy figure with two long pointed ears entered the room. It was a Catcher. It hopped slowly around the room like a rabbit, playing with the leaves of the plants in the tall vase and sniffing around the tapestry. Then it turned its attention to the desk. I scooted back underneath the desk and slapped my hand over my mouth, desperate not to make a sound. I heard it hop into the air before its feet landed gently on the floor right next to the desk. It took a step closer to the spot where I lay in a fetal position. I hoped that I was small enough that it wouldn’t notice me.
Light swept throughout the room. And I let out a breath of relief. We were safe when the lights were on. That was the rule of the game, I reminded myself. I crawled out from underneath the desk and froze as I came face to face with a giant pink bunny. I knew that inside the costume was a classmate’s parent. But there was something off about it, like it had no good intentions. It stared back with large black orbs for eyes. Its large buck teeth dripped droplets of red on the white carpet. Dark red chunks like mushed up beets fell from its mouth.
“Benjie! Don’t just stand there!” Mark pulled me out of the trance, and I ran out with them. At the end of the hallway, we saw another Catcher dressed in a court blue and yellow jester suit and mask.
The lights flickered; one minute warning for us to find another hiding spot. Without looking back, we ran and tried getting into another room. With utter mortification I learned that most of the doors were locked. Not only that, but others only led to dead ends. We went through one door that led to another hallway that stretched on endlessly with rows of doors on either side of us.
Behind us, the bells jingled on the dangling sleeves of the jester’s cap ‘n’ bells. It got closer and closer. Of course, I stupidly looked back. One by one the wall lights went out, and the laughing jester twirled and leapt its way to us.
We came to a door at the end of the hallway, but it wouldn’t budge. Andy banged on it and twisted the knob as hard as he could.
“I want to stop playing this game,” Mark sobbed. He backed into the corner, trembling and crying. A dark wet spot appeared in front of his pants. I also felt something wet and warm trickling down my pants.
The jester was approaching, inching closer and closer by the second. And then, it stopped. It squatted in the dark with its hands under its chin, gazing at us with its harrowing black eyes. The only thing keeping it from capturing us was that the light from a single wall lamp shielded us. Sniffling and wiping his tears away, Mark squeaked, “Dad?” He took a step forward with an outreached hand seeking a sliver of comfort.
“I don’t think he’s your dad,” I said, but my words didn’t reach him. The jester gestured with a single finger for him to come closer.
“I got it! Come on, guys!” Andy cried, happily, as the door finally swung inward with a hard kick revealing a lighted room. I grabbed hold of Mark’s arm, but he shook me off. And I watched in horror as he tugged on the jester’s mask and pulled it off.
It was Mark’s dad behind the mask. His smile was split so wide, I could see his gums bleed and the skin at the corners of his lips had torn. He was foaming heavily at the mouth like a rabid dog.
“Dad...” Mark uttered.
The wall light went out. And that was the last I saw of him.
XXXXX
I’ll have to continue with my story later. I need to eat something. I can’t remember the last time I did. The hunger is gnawing my stomach. There’s nothing in the fridge. I didn’t even get leftovers from my friend’s birthday party. It’s okay. All I need now is to feed this body.
2024.05.29 01:17 kayenano The Villainess Is An SS+ Rank Adventurer: Chapter 245
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Synopsis:
Juliette Contzen is a lazy, good-for-nothing princess. Overshadowed by her siblings, she's left with little to do but nap, read … and occasionally cut the falling raindrops with her sword. Spotted one day by an astonished adventurer, he insists on grading Juliette's swordsmanship, then promptly has a mental breakdown at the result.
Soon after, Juliette is given the news that her kingdom is on the brink of bankruptcy. At threat of being married off, the lazy princess vows to do whatever it takes to maintain her current lifestyle, and taking matters into her own hands, escapes in the middle of the night in order to restore her kingdom's finances.
Tags: Comedy, Adventure, Action, Fantasy, Copious Ohohohohos.
Chapter 245: A Clockwork Wish
The quiet streets of Hartzwiese stood in contrast to the lights of the many inns, bars and taverns.
Despite its modest size, the town boasted as many drinking establishments as there were adventurers somehow drunk enough to be booted from the guild hall. And yet for all the bright lanterns singing from the windows, they paled in comparison to the moonlight as it graced the steps before me. A white carpet ushering me towards a tavern Apple was now using as a stables, and where I could enjoy a complementary room, courtesy of the fact I now owned it.
But before I could put my day’s labours behind me, there was still an important task I had to do.
The most important.
Rewarding my loyal handmaiden, who throughout these arduous days had remained firm and true as much as the sword by my side.
Indeed, no ill deed went unpunished, and no good service went unrewarded.
Why … she even knew the same.
Stopping before a large fountain in the centre of the town square, Coppelia held her palm out towards me as she eyed the faintly glittering surface.
“Gimme change,” she said brightly.
“Change?”
“I want to toss a coin into the fountain~”
My mouth opened wide.
“E-Excuse me! I know very well you possess coins of your own! Furthermore, I’ll not give you money from our hard earned hazelnut croissant fund merely to quite literally toss it away!”
“It’s not throwing it away. It’s making a wish.”
“A wish?”
“Mmh~ drop a coin into a fountain. Get a wish. An absolute bargain. Haven’t you tried it before?”
“Coppelia, I’ve no need to drop coins into fountains. I ring a bell. That’s how my wishes come true.”
“Well, do you have the bell with you?”
I paused.
“... No.”
“There you go, then! Until you get your bell back, you’ll need to toss away coins for your wishes.”
She beamed with childish expectation, palm still outstretched, fully expecting me to humour her request.
Well, sadly for Coppelia, I was not so easily moved!
Our personal finances went into maintaining a minimal standard of living! And that meant every coin we had to spare went into purchasing premium apples and cinnamon rolls! It would be unconscionable of me to allow it to be spent so frivolously!
“Staaaaaaaaaaaare~”
I rolled my eyes.
“... Fine, one copper crown,” I said, rummaging through my bottomless pouch. “Really now, this is hardly a djinn you’re bribing. I’m surprised you wish to add to the fountain and not merely scoop up what’s there.”
“Hey! I have standards! … I don’t like copper, it’s less shiny than silver and gold and gets in the way when I rummage through my ill-gotten gains.”
I offered Coppelia a sigh along with the small coin.
She accepted it with a giggle. As she turned to the fountain, the stars twinkled from her eyes more than the surface of the clear water.
Plop.
It vanished into the depths.
A small proof of our hardship, now given to the fountain to judge and a magpie to steal come the morning.
“And what wish do you hope to acquire through a less shiny copper crown?”
Coppelia merely smiled.
No word left her lips as her turquoise eyes gazed at the fountain’s disturbed surface. She herself was motionless but for the soft wind tugging at the ends of her fluffy golden hair.
And then–she twirled on the spot.
Arms spinning around, she raised them out and stopped like a melodramatic ballerina.
“World domination! I shall subjugate all squishy life under my cute, clockwork heel!”
“Please pick a different wish,” I replied, waving her declaration away as I would a plain chouquette. “World domination has already been chosen by half the world’s rulers. There’s not enough wishes in any fountain to accommodate them all.”
“... Got it! I’ll take an apple strudel!”
“You can wish for something that isn’t already in our possession.”
“In that case, I’ll take an apple strudel from every bakery in the world!”
I nodded. Better. Especially as I was far more dependable than any wishing fountain.
Indeed, as soon as I returned to the Royal Villa, I’d order a squire to go fetch an apple strudel from every bakery in the world as part of some inane quest!
“But what about you?” she asked, never knowing the suffering and hardship her casual request had just caused somebody not me. “Don’t you have any wishes for the totally legitimate wishing fountain?”
I held a hand to my chest, scoffing with a princess’s dignity.
“Ohohoho … for the fountain? No. I’ve no need for a fountain to make my wishes come true, for I have my own strength of purpose. And that is enough to grant all I desire. The prosperity of my kingdom. The health of my family. And the loyalty of my subjects.”
Coppelia leaned towards me, her smile appraising my own.
“Reeaaaally?”
I reacted with the indignation such scepticism deserved … and also a quick glance around me as I eyed for witnesses.
“... W-Well, if I could maybe have one thing, it would be an opportunity to finish reading my current novels. I have been stuck on the same pages for far too long.”
“That really annoys you, huh?”
“I-It’s terrible, Coppelia! At this rate, I’ll need to re-read some of them … and frankly, it’s enough of a strike against my fragile heart to do so once! There is only so much research a princess can take!”
My loyal handmaiden giggled. She wouldn’t if she knew the dangers that overexposure to the world of bestselling adventure romances could cause. I’d seen noblewomen collapsing at court more often with a copy of Scandals Of The Incorrigible Viscount in hand than any knife to the back.
A moment later–
Plop.
A second copper crown was casually tossed into the fountain.
“Done~” said Coppelia with a satisfied clap. “I’ve made your wish for you!”
My mouth widened as I stared between the fresh ripples and her mischievous smile.
“E-Excuse me! Didn’t you say you had no copper crowns?”
“I only said I didn’t like them. I never said I didn’t have just the one lying around. Isn’t that great? Now it means we both get our wishes! Apple strudels and scandalous books galore!”
“C-Coppelia! That is an entirely unnecessary waste of a copper crown … and more besides, I could have wished for a dragon’s hoard!”
“I mean, you could. But if you thought people were a problem before, wait until they know you’re even richer than a normal princess. You’d have burglars breaking into your vault even while you’re still busy swimming around in the pile of gold.”
“Please. That happens regardless of whether or not a dragon’s hoard is involved. And if it ever became a true issue, well … I’d simply solve it by hiring a dragon.”
“You’d hire a dragon to guard a dragon’s hoard?”
“Why not? There’s clearly no better proven warden.”
“Yep, that’s true. They’d even guard it against you. How would you get the treasure back?”
“I wouldn’t. It’d simply exist to slowly erase the population of burglars from my kingdom. That would be its true value.”
Coppelia looked up in thought.
“Huh. That sounds suspiciously like something which could work.”
I smiled with quiet pride. But not too quiet. I had my pride, after all.
“Ohohoh … naturally, I’m not only a princess. I’m a genius … but since I’m mostly a princess, this also means ensuring my retainers are rewarded for their service, and bribed concerning any slovenly faces I may have made.”
“Now that’s the level of subtlety I like. Negative numbers.”
“Well, negative numbers is also how I value most fae trinkets. But perhaps you can find worth in it.”
Coppelia clapped her hands together and beamed.
“Ooooh~! I smell souvenirs! Did you steal toiletries on the way out of the Fae Realm?”
“I did not steal toiletries! … although if I’d seen any, I possibly may have!”
“So you stole something else? Like cutlery?”
“Coppelia! I do not steal things whenever I visit a different plane of existence!”
“Why not? Everyone else does.”
“I am not ‘everyone’. Even when abducted, I’m still required to display the regal bearing of my station, representing always my kingdom and my family … and there was no cutlery, either.”
“Wow. You must have had an awful time.”
I gave a grim nod.
No toiletries. No cutlery. Not even a branded napkin.
The next time I was indiscriminately abducted to the Fae Realm, I’d ensure I would wander lost until a stack of towels accidentally fell into my arms.
“It was dire. But while I didn’t return empty handed, it was with nothing drawn from a dragon’s hoard or edible like a mound of apple strudels. Regardless, here is a gift acquired from the Spring Queen to add to your collection of trinkets and doodads I have no wish to know about.”
Thus, I reached into my bottomless bag, sweated as I fished for a slender object, and then retrieved a small ring of jade.
Unlike the crystal ring gifted to me by the Winter Queen and now embellished by her sister, the jade ring was adorned only with a pattern of crystalline vines upon the band, lacking any jewel set upon it.
Even so, Coppelia’s eyes lit up like a twin pair of moons.
She pointed at herself.
“Wait, is that for me?”
“Indeed, it is. You may have it.”
“Eh … ehhh?! It actually looks expensive, though! I was expecting something like a postcard!”
I raised a brow.
“If you’d prefer a postcard, I’m sure I could ask for one instead.”
Coppelia appeared speechless. Something so impossible not even a fountain could grant it.
Blinking in disbelief, she reached out and accepted the ring. Without putting it on, she held it against the moonlight, studying its finish.
“Ooooh~ it’s so shiny! … Will I blow up if I wear it?”
“No.” I paused. “At least, I don’t think so.”
Coppelia stopped as the ring met her finger.
“There’s no need to fear,” I added as I took a step away. “It’s a ring gifted by the Spring Queen, and so is imbued also by her magic.”
“I’m not hearing anything which says I won’t blow up.”
“You won’t blow up. Probably. After all, this thing is still little more than a child’s trinket. It contains a single favoured plaything from her court of dreams. The very swing she sat upon during our meeting.”
“The swing?”
“The swing. I believe it functions similarly to the bed. Why not try summoning it in the same manner?”
Deciding she’d paid enough tribute to caution, Coppelia popped the ring on.
She studied herself to ensure she hadn’t melted, before raising her hand in curiosity.
“Sooooo … do I just need to say [Summon Swing] and–woooaahh!!”
Poof.
The moment the words left her lips, she was lifted from the ground as a swing of crystalline leaves and vines appeared where she stood, seating her automatically in the process. Against the dour backdrop of Hartzwiese’s decidedly human streets, it shone with as much vividness as the Spring Queen’s mirror-like wings.
Coppelia blinked, her eyes wide as she wrapped her hands around the ropes of crystallised vines.
And then–
She began to swing.
With only the rustling of her clothes and the fluttering of her hair to disturb the quiet scenery, she proceeded to test the Spring Queen’s plaything, wasting little time before she began to swing like a pendulum, backwards and forwards at greater speeds.
She did not say a word, nor voice any thoughts, and although she wore a smile upon her face, it was no different to one she regularly affixed upon herself.
A moment of doubt struck me.
“N-Naturally, it’s rather unorthodox as a gift. It is no great heirloom or weapon, and rather impractical so far as useful function is concerned. But I imagine the ring itself is worth some value. If you do not want it, I’m certain some curio collector would pay for its novelty value. Regardless, please consider it as a bonus.”
Suddenly, Coppelia leapt off the swing in mid-flight. She skipped a few steps owing to the momentum, yet still pirouetted effortlessly on one foot as she twisted around to face me.
Her widening smile was the only warning I received.
“–Hiieeee?!”
Because the next moment …
I experienced the sensation of being hoisted off my feet.
Oh no.
“Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!”
Wrapping her arms around my waist, she easily lifted me up.
A feeling I’d experienced once before. And one I had not forgotten. Terror mixed with only the tiniest drop of excitement met me as I was promptly swung like an errant pillow.
“C-Coooppeeeliaaaa!! M-My priiiinnceess imaaggee!!”
With a girlish smile, Coppelia paid no heed to my meek and delicate cry as she twirled on the spot.
Around and around, my hair billowed behind me as all the town became a blur which helped to hide the many holes and cracks in the walls and windows, until somehow, the other side of my hair became known to the opposite side of my face.
“Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee~”
Just as I felt the world beginning to take on entirely new colours, she came to a stop.
She placed me down, continuing to smile as I waved away her supporting hands. I stumbled as I chased equilibrium, all the while blowing the many strands of my dark hair away from my mouth. My fingers instinctively went into emergency combing mode.
“I-It seems … uughh … you enjoy … the gift … uuuh … I’m … I’m pleased …”
Coppelia stepped back, arms behind her back as she gave another twirl, this time mercifully without me attached. Like a maiden in a meadow, she lightly skipped around her new magically summoned fae swing, examining its fine spring motifs and crystalline details, before finally turning to me once again.
I leaned away, not least because there were now several versions of her before me.
“Thankies~” she said brightly. “I like this a lot!”
I held my tummy, making sure nothing terrible was about to happen before I replied.
“You’re … uugh … you’re welcome …”
She gave a giggle of amusement at my expense, then seated herself on her new swing once again.
For my part, I rather desperately eyed the direction of my kingdom’s latest acquisition. A tavern which possessed very helpful walls. Even if I had no intention on using the beds within them.
After all–
It wasn’t only Coppelia who had reason to smile tonight.
Indeed … I also had a new and improved bed to enjoy!
Now that my minor detour to this corner of my countryside was complete, my only remaining task was to thoroughly and objectively test the Spring Queen’s magic for myself.
Yes … it was time to indulge my face in the Winter Queen’s pillow once again! To hug a silken duvet now gifted with the scent of an eternal meadow! A moment to thoroughly reward myself as I purposefully shoved any and all dangerous thoughts of tomorrow to the wayside!
And nothing, I knew, could disturb me from my slumber!
That ominous feeling I’d forgotten something important?
Why … I barely even felt it!
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submitted by kayenano to HFY [link] [comments]
Synopsis:
Juliette Contzen is a lazy, good-for-nothing princess. Overshadowed by her siblings, she's left with little to do but nap, read … and occasionally cut the falling raindrops with her sword. Spotted one day by an astonished adventurer, he insists on grading Juliette's swordsmanship, then promptly has a mental breakdown at the result.
Soon after, Juliette is given the news that her kingdom is on the brink of bankruptcy. At threat of being married off, the lazy princess vows to do whatever it takes to maintain her current lifestyle, and taking matters into her own hands, escapes in the middle of the night in order to restore her kingdom's finances.
Tags: Comedy, Adventure, Action, Fantasy, Copious Ohohohohos.
Chapter 245: A Clockwork Wish
The quiet streets of Hartzwiese stood in contrast to the lights of the many inns, bars and taverns.
Despite its modest size, the town boasted as many drinking establishments as there were adventurers somehow drunk enough to be booted from the guild hall. And yet for all the bright lanterns singing from the windows, they paled in comparison to the moonlight as it graced the steps before me. A white carpet ushering me towards a tavern Apple was now using as a stables, and where I could enjoy a complementary room, courtesy of the fact I now owned it.
But before I could put my day’s labours behind me, there was still an important task I had to do.
The most important.
Rewarding my loyal handmaiden, who throughout these arduous days had remained firm and true as much as the sword by my side.
Indeed, no ill deed went unpunished, and no good service went unrewarded.
Why … she even knew the same.
Stopping before a large fountain in the centre of the town square, Coppelia held her palm out towards me as she eyed the faintly glittering surface.
“Gimme change,” she said brightly.
“Change?”
“I want to toss a coin into the fountain~”
My mouth opened wide.
“E-Excuse me! I know very well you possess coins of your own! Furthermore, I’ll not give you money from our hard earned hazelnut croissant fund merely to quite literally toss it away!”
“It’s not throwing it away. It’s making a wish.”
“A wish?”
“Mmh~ drop a coin into a fountain. Get a wish. An absolute bargain. Haven’t you tried it before?”
“Coppelia, I’ve no need to drop coins into fountains. I ring a bell. That’s how my wishes come true.”
“Well, do you have the bell with you?”
I paused.
“... No.”
“There you go, then! Until you get your bell back, you’ll need to toss away coins for your wishes.”
She beamed with childish expectation, palm still outstretched, fully expecting me to humour her request.
Well, sadly for Coppelia, I was not so easily moved!
Our personal finances went into maintaining a minimal standard of living! And that meant every coin we had to spare went into purchasing premium apples and cinnamon rolls! It would be unconscionable of me to allow it to be spent so frivolously!
“Staaaaaaaaaaaare~”
I rolled my eyes.
“... Fine, one copper crown,” I said, rummaging through my bottomless pouch. “Really now, this is hardly a djinn you’re bribing. I’m surprised you wish to add to the fountain and not merely scoop up what’s there.”
“Hey! I have standards! … I don’t like copper, it’s less shiny than silver and gold and gets in the way when I rummage through my ill-gotten gains.”
I offered Coppelia a sigh along with the small coin.
She accepted it with a giggle. As she turned to the fountain, the stars twinkled from her eyes more than the surface of the clear water.
Plop.
It vanished into the depths.
A small proof of our hardship, now given to the fountain to judge and a magpie to steal come the morning.
“And what wish do you hope to acquire through a less shiny copper crown?”
Coppelia merely smiled.
No word left her lips as her turquoise eyes gazed at the fountain’s disturbed surface. She herself was motionless but for the soft wind tugging at the ends of her fluffy golden hair.
And then–she twirled on the spot.
Arms spinning around, she raised them out and stopped like a melodramatic ballerina.
“World domination! I shall subjugate all squishy life under my cute, clockwork heel!”
“Please pick a different wish,” I replied, waving her declaration away as I would a plain chouquette. “World domination has already been chosen by half the world’s rulers. There’s not enough wishes in any fountain to accommodate them all.”
“... Got it! I’ll take an apple strudel!”
“You can wish for something that isn’t already in our possession.”
“In that case, I’ll take an apple strudel from every bakery in the world!”
I nodded. Better. Especially as I was far more dependable than any wishing fountain.
Indeed, as soon as I returned to the Royal Villa, I’d order a squire to go fetch an apple strudel from every bakery in the world as part of some inane quest!
“But what about you?” she asked, never knowing the suffering and hardship her casual request had just caused somebody not me. “Don’t you have any wishes for the totally legitimate wishing fountain?”
I held a hand to my chest, scoffing with a princess’s dignity.
“Ohohoho … for the fountain? No. I’ve no need for a fountain to make my wishes come true, for I have my own strength of purpose. And that is enough to grant all I desire. The prosperity of my kingdom. The health of my family. And the loyalty of my subjects.”
Coppelia leaned towards me, her smile appraising my own.
“Reeaaaally?”
I reacted with the indignation such scepticism deserved … and also a quick glance around me as I eyed for witnesses.
“... W-Well, if I could maybe have one thing, it would be an opportunity to finish reading my current novels. I have been stuck on the same pages for far too long.”
“That really annoys you, huh?”
“I-It’s terrible, Coppelia! At this rate, I’ll need to re-read some of them … and frankly, it’s enough of a strike against my fragile heart to do so once! There is only so much research a princess can take!”
My loyal handmaiden giggled. She wouldn’t if she knew the dangers that overexposure to the world of bestselling adventure romances could cause. I’d seen noblewomen collapsing at court more often with a copy of Scandals Of The Incorrigible Viscount in hand than any knife to the back.
A moment later–
Plop.
A second copper crown was casually tossed into the fountain.
“Done~” said Coppelia with a satisfied clap. “I’ve made your wish for you!”
My mouth widened as I stared between the fresh ripples and her mischievous smile.
“E-Excuse me! Didn’t you say you had no copper crowns?”
“I only said I didn’t like them. I never said I didn’t have just the one lying around. Isn’t that great? Now it means we both get our wishes! Apple strudels and scandalous books galore!”
“C-Coppelia! That is an entirely unnecessary waste of a copper crown … and more besides, I could have wished for a dragon’s hoard!”
“I mean, you could. But if you thought people were a problem before, wait until they know you’re even richer than a normal princess. You’d have burglars breaking into your vault even while you’re still busy swimming around in the pile of gold.”
“Please. That happens regardless of whether or not a dragon’s hoard is involved. And if it ever became a true issue, well … I’d simply solve it by hiring a dragon.”
“You’d hire a dragon to guard a dragon’s hoard?”
“Why not? There’s clearly no better proven warden.”
“Yep, that’s true. They’d even guard it against you. How would you get the treasure back?”
“I wouldn’t. It’d simply exist to slowly erase the population of burglars from my kingdom. That would be its true value.”
Coppelia looked up in thought.
“Huh. That sounds suspiciously like something which could work.”
I smiled with quiet pride. But not too quiet. I had my pride, after all.
“Ohohoh … naturally, I’m not only a princess. I’m a genius … but since I’m mostly a princess, this also means ensuring my retainers are rewarded for their service, and bribed concerning any slovenly faces I may have made.”
“Now that’s the level of subtlety I like. Negative numbers.”
“Well, negative numbers is also how I value most fae trinkets. But perhaps you can find worth in it.”
Coppelia clapped her hands together and beamed.
“Ooooh~! I smell souvenirs! Did you steal toiletries on the way out of the Fae Realm?”
“I did not steal toiletries! … although if I’d seen any, I possibly may have!”
“So you stole something else? Like cutlery?”
“Coppelia! I do not steal things whenever I visit a different plane of existence!”
“Why not? Everyone else does.”
“I am not ‘everyone’. Even when abducted, I’m still required to display the regal bearing of my station, representing always my kingdom and my family … and there was no cutlery, either.”
“Wow. You must have had an awful time.”
I gave a grim nod.
No toiletries. No cutlery. Not even a branded napkin.
The next time I was indiscriminately abducted to the Fae Realm, I’d ensure I would wander lost until a stack of towels accidentally fell into my arms.
“It was dire. But while I didn’t return empty handed, it was with nothing drawn from a dragon’s hoard or edible like a mound of apple strudels. Regardless, here is a gift acquired from the Spring Queen to add to your collection of trinkets and doodads I have no wish to know about.”
Thus, I reached into my bottomless bag, sweated as I fished for a slender object, and then retrieved a small ring of jade.
Unlike the crystal ring gifted to me by the Winter Queen and now embellished by her sister, the jade ring was adorned only with a pattern of crystalline vines upon the band, lacking any jewel set upon it.
Even so, Coppelia’s eyes lit up like a twin pair of moons.
She pointed at herself.
“Wait, is that for me?”
“Indeed, it is. You may have it.”
“Eh … ehhh?! It actually looks expensive, though! I was expecting something like a postcard!”
I raised a brow.
“If you’d prefer a postcard, I’m sure I could ask for one instead.”
Coppelia appeared speechless. Something so impossible not even a fountain could grant it.
Blinking in disbelief, she reached out and accepted the ring. Without putting it on, she held it against the moonlight, studying its finish.
“Ooooh~ it’s so shiny! … Will I blow up if I wear it?”
“No.” I paused. “At least, I don’t think so.”
Coppelia stopped as the ring met her finger.
“There’s no need to fear,” I added as I took a step away. “It’s a ring gifted by the Spring Queen, and so is imbued also by her magic.”
“I’m not hearing anything which says I won’t blow up.”
“You won’t blow up. Probably. After all, this thing is still little more than a child’s trinket. It contains a single favoured plaything from her court of dreams. The very swing she sat upon during our meeting.”
“The swing?”
“The swing. I believe it functions similarly to the bed. Why not try summoning it in the same manner?”
Deciding she’d paid enough tribute to caution, Coppelia popped the ring on.
She studied herself to ensure she hadn’t melted, before raising her hand in curiosity.
“Sooooo … do I just need to say [Summon Swing] and–woooaahh!!”
Poof.
The moment the words left her lips, she was lifted from the ground as a swing of crystalline leaves and vines appeared where she stood, seating her automatically in the process. Against the dour backdrop of Hartzwiese’s decidedly human streets, it shone with as much vividness as the Spring Queen’s mirror-like wings.
Coppelia blinked, her eyes wide as she wrapped her hands around the ropes of crystallised vines.
And then–
She began to swing.
With only the rustling of her clothes and the fluttering of her hair to disturb the quiet scenery, she proceeded to test the Spring Queen’s plaything, wasting little time before she began to swing like a pendulum, backwards and forwards at greater speeds.
She did not say a word, nor voice any thoughts, and although she wore a smile upon her face, it was no different to one she regularly affixed upon herself.
A moment of doubt struck me.
“N-Naturally, it’s rather unorthodox as a gift. It is no great heirloom or weapon, and rather impractical so far as useful function is concerned. But I imagine the ring itself is worth some value. If you do not want it, I’m certain some curio collector would pay for its novelty value. Regardless, please consider it as a bonus.”
Suddenly, Coppelia leapt off the swing in mid-flight. She skipped a few steps owing to the momentum, yet still pirouetted effortlessly on one foot as she twisted around to face me.
Her widening smile was the only warning I received.
“–Hiieeee?!”
Because the next moment …
I experienced the sensation of being hoisted off my feet.
Oh no.
“Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!”
Wrapping her arms around my waist, she easily lifted me up.
A feeling I’d experienced once before. And one I had not forgotten. Terror mixed with only the tiniest drop of excitement met me as I was promptly swung like an errant pillow.
“C-Coooppeeeliaaaa!! M-My priiiinnceess imaaggee!!”
With a girlish smile, Coppelia paid no heed to my meek and delicate cry as she twirled on the spot.
Around and around, my hair billowed behind me as all the town became a blur which helped to hide the many holes and cracks in the walls and windows, until somehow, the other side of my hair became known to the opposite side of my face.
“Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee~”
Just as I felt the world beginning to take on entirely new colours, she came to a stop.
She placed me down, continuing to smile as I waved away her supporting hands. I stumbled as I chased equilibrium, all the while blowing the many strands of my dark hair away from my mouth. My fingers instinctively went into emergency combing mode.
“I-It seems … uughh … you enjoy … the gift … uuuh … I’m … I’m pleased …”
Coppelia stepped back, arms behind her back as she gave another twirl, this time mercifully without me attached. Like a maiden in a meadow, she lightly skipped around her new magically summoned fae swing, examining its fine spring motifs and crystalline details, before finally turning to me once again.
I leaned away, not least because there were now several versions of her before me.
“Thankies~” she said brightly. “I like this a lot!”
I held my tummy, making sure nothing terrible was about to happen before I replied.
“You’re … uugh … you’re welcome …”
She gave a giggle of amusement at my expense, then seated herself on her new swing once again.
For my part, I rather desperately eyed the direction of my kingdom’s latest acquisition. A tavern which possessed very helpful walls. Even if I had no intention on using the beds within them.
After all–
It wasn’t only Coppelia who had reason to smile tonight.
Indeed … I also had a new and improved bed to enjoy!
Now that my minor detour to this corner of my countryside was complete, my only remaining task was to thoroughly and objectively test the Spring Queen’s magic for myself.
Yes … it was time to indulge my face in the Winter Queen’s pillow once again! To hug a silken duvet now gifted with the scent of an eternal meadow! A moment to thoroughly reward myself as I purposefully shoved any and all dangerous thoughts of tomorrow to the wayside!
And nothing, I knew, could disturb me from my slumber!
That ominous feeling I’d forgotten something important?
Why … I barely even felt it!
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2024.05.29 00:40 Historical-Western59 Can someone review my Spider-Man story for my media class
Not finished yet but nearly done just need to know if it's decent.
Spider-Man VS The Punisher
A man walking his footsteps sounds like mini explosions as a row of computers with people typing on them. The man stops upon a window looking down to a glass cage with yellow electricity emerging from it.
“He's here, he's taking us all out. We need back up. Noooo.” The man looks at one of the scientists saying “wait for him to get here.” The man cleans up his suit and tightens his tie.
“Ohhh you're getting dressed up just for me. I shoulda brought flowers.” The man looks up where he sees a man in a red and blue webbed suit. “I should have killed you years ago. Well after today you will be.” “We both know that's not going to happen Willy. I'll arrest you and you'll escape, Rinse and repeat, it's always been like that.” The man grinds his teeth and grips his hands. “Unleash him.” the scientist looks at him and then at the computer pressing a button.
“Unleash him Fisk are you cheating on me with another hero.” as he says this a bolt of lightning strikes through the glass levitating in front of him. “You must be Spiderman. I'm electro, the man that's been tasked to kill you.” Spider-Man whispers to himself. “This guy's making my spider sense go crazy. I don't think this will go well.” he coughs then says. “Shouldn't you be at the circus.” Electro looks at Fisk and says “Leave Mister Fisk now.” Fisk and the scientists walk out into an elevator. “Don't disappoint me Max.” The elevator goes up with Spider-Man and Electro looking at each other “So electricity man are we gonna start.” He looks down to his hands where they start to glow brighter with electricity shooting out. BANG electricity shoots out his hand Spider-Man just dodging it. BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG Spider-Man narrowly dodges the bolts. He creates a continuous line of lightning towards Spider-Man. Cracking Peter tries to dodge it but fails on the ground Peter feels his muscles shut down. Electro walks over to him, shocking him again. “Ahhhhhhh.” He stops Spider-Man trying to crawl away BANG “AHHHHHH.” An alarm goes off as sprinklers also go off hitting Electro causing him to grunt.
Spider-Man using this crawls up a wall into a vent leaving the building Spider-Man takes off his mask feeling the rain hit his face. He hears Fisk talking to Electro below. “Is the job done.” “No, he escaped. The sprinklers set off burning my skin.” “You let him escape. I gave you one job and failed me." Electro looks at him sternly saying “Mister Fisk you gave me these powers and you want me to kill Peter I will. You know where he lives, I can go over there and kill him and his family.” “You will do no such thing. He will not try to kill us if we just go after him he won't understand.” Electro nods and walks away with an umbrella.
Spider-Man looks at his web shooters. “Great, they're gonna have to get the train. May's gonna kill me when I get back.”
Brooklyn, New York, 21:32
“PLEASE, PLEASE DON'T DO IT. I HAVE A FAMILY LOOK. PLEASE I'LL DO ANYTHING. WHAT DO YOU WANT MONEY, POWER.” A man shouts breaking down in fear of whoever is trying to kill him. “I want to know why you do it. Why commit crime when there's hundreds of heroes. I think I know why though. They won't kill, they won't just take the godam leap and end you scumbags. So I chose to do it myself.” The man says in a deep voice wrapping a cord around his neck. He picks him up, showing him a fifteen floor drop. “No, no, please don't do this.” He starts to cry as looks at him blankly, throwing off the building with him screaming for about three seconds till the man hears a snap. “Good Riddens.”
Queen's, New York, 9:29 pm
Walking into a house a teenager walks in “Peter where have y- My god what happened to you?” Peter looks at his aunt and says “Some people tried to rob me, it's alright May.” “Did they take anything? Did you call the police.?” “No and no May I'm fine May.” He looks at May. “I'll call the police.” “DON'T. I never saw what they really looked like, you'll just waste their time.” She looks at him saying “From now on you'll be back before it gets dark.” Peter nods “Now Peter time for your cake Happy Eighteenth Peter.” Peter looks at a cake with candles on it. He blows them out “Thanks May I'm just gonna go to my room I've had a ruff day.” May looks at him. “Are you sure you don't want some cake I've made? It's your favourite.” “I'll have some tomorrow really.” Peter walks up to his room turning on the TV playing the daily bugle. “Today Spider-Man failed to capture this so-called Lizard. I think he's just too lazy to put in any work. When the police lose a suspect their back on the streets trying to find him but Spider-Man swip swap swoops his way down and destroys peoples properties.” Peter looks at it in a rage “People would have died if i wasn't there yet I don't get thanked but hated. Why do I do this?” He looks at the picture next to his bed of him and uncle Ben. The time when he didn't worry if Aunt May would see him tomorrow. If she'll be targeted by villains. “Ben would call me stupid for doing something like this. Even more stupid I was responsible for his death. I couldn't just tell him where I was, I just had to storm out. He goes looking for me and ends up getting shot. I'm sorry Ben.”
Manhattan, New York, 06:34
“What will it be?” “Coffee, milk and two sugars.” She turns around and the man looks at his watch as he checks the time. “06:36 still have seven.” “It's ready. Have an amazing day.” he hands her a ten and leaves. He walks to an old burned building. Walking in he goes up five floors and goes towards a sniper pointing out a window. He takes a sip of his coffee checking his watch. “06:42 one minute.” A minute later a limousine drives up to a small building. A man dressed in a white and gold suit walks. “Gotcha.” BANG, a single bullet from the sniper shoots the man in the head obliterating the back of his head. He walks away with screams of people running and people shouting. “It's him, Punisher, he's here.” Pointing their pistols in the air looking where the shot came from.
Queen's, New York, 7:45 am
BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BE-. Bang Peter hits his alarm destroying it. “Uhh, great way to start the day.” Peter goes to the bathroom brushing his teeth. He leaves the bathroom getting changed into his new clothes then goes to check on his web shooters. “Thank god for the science lab.” Checking his costume he sees it burnt and destroyed. He messages MJ to ask her to bring his spare costume she's working on. He gets his bag and web shooters going downstairs. “Hey Aunt May I'm off to school.” “Not so fast, I've got some cake for you to take.” Petter goes up to May and takes it. “Thanks May love ya bye.” Peter walks out to the school bus.
On the bus he sits next to his girlfriend Mary Jane. “My god Pete what happened to you. Also you suits in my bag.” Peter looks at her saying “New villain in town calls himself Electro.” “You've got to stop doing this Peter really you're going to kill yourself. How many villains do you have?” Peter looks down and says “Well Theirs the lizard, Shocker, Electro, Fisk, Otto Octavius and sin eater. Don't forget about the small time.” She looks at him saying “God why do I put up with you.” “Because I'm irresistible.” She smirks.
A couple hours later Peter only had two lessons left. Peter in the back of his English class looked at his web shooters making sure they still aren't broken and that he fixed them during science. Peter looks at his phone where he sees a notification from the daily bugle saying that sandman is robbing a bank. “Can I go to the bathroom?” Peter shouts. “Sure Mister Parker uh just take the pass.” Peter takes it and leaves. He goes to the janitor's closet putting on his Spidey suit and web shooters jumping out of the window. He looks at his phone while swinging. “Sometimes I wish I had a GPS in my suit instead of needing to use Oscorpe maps.” He swings wondering why sandman is robbing a bank. “He's stupid but not this stupid to rob a bank, especially during the day.” He swings across Queensboro into Manhattan.
When he arrives the swat team surrounds the area with Captain Stacey on standby. Spider-Man drops down in front of him. “Hey.” Looking up Captain Stacey talks to Spider-Man. “Spider-Man good thing you're here we need your help. Sandman has taken over the bank and he has three hostages.” Spider-Man looks at him saying. “Guess you can say things are getting out of sand.” “Sure just when you go in don't destroy much will you.” “I won't captain you know me, just get your officer's to sand back.” Spider-Man does finger guns at Captain Stacey swinging in. “Everyone shut up. I'm gonna pay it off with this score.” Spider-Man slowly swings down “It's ironic that you're named Flint. You know because flint and steel create fire and fire turns you into glass.” “WHAT.” Spider-Man sighs as he launches a kick towards him. He kicks him with Spider-Man going straight through him as this happens he webs his feet and pulls causing him to fall. He goes to punch sandman but punches him through the glass into a police car. CRASH, the police start firing at him but they do nothing. “SPIDER-MAN GET UP.” Captain Stacey shouts at spider-man. Spider-man jumps in slingshotting himself into sandman. He goes straight through him knocking sandman back as well. “Stop this Flint, think of all the good you've done.” He jumps onto the wall looking at a fire hydrant. “Like you've no that won't cut it. Ok you haven't done anything good but that doesn't mean I have to kick your ass again.” Sandman gets up. “You think you can kick my ass again. Not happening.” Spider-Man sighs. “Ok.” Spider-Man jumps down and grabs the fire hydrant and pulls. CRACK, the fire hydrant breaks splashing water all over sandman. “I told you Flint, I always win.” Flint starts to turn into a pile of wet sand. Spider-Man webs the hydrant to stop the water then walks over to Flint. Barely able to keep your normal form. “Screw you.” Spider-Man looks over at the captain. “He's all your captain enjoy.” Spider-Man jumps onto the side of a swat van. “Where do you go when you finish?” “School, besides I'm only missing one class.” Peter says this jumping and swinging away. “About ten minutes getting there. HEY I'M SWINGING HERE. Five minutes there and ten back is enough to miss english.”
Last lesson goes pretty boring for Peter. He's thinking about the lizard and how he escaped yesterday.
Bronx, New York, 15:45
“Nah he'll be here soon. The boss says after today's shipment the police are going to leave the Bronx alone.” An unknown man, clearly a gangster in a suit, is talking to another man in a suit. “Yeah, isn't he worried, though I mean what happened yesterday? You know Freddy.” One of them says “Nah, his new guy almost killed Spider-Man yesterday. He was talking about how he was crawling to escape only got away because of the sprinklers.”
BANG, BANG, The Punisher walks into a restaurant with seven men in suits in it. “HEY WHO LET THIS GUY IN.” The Punisher grabs his M4 and start to spray into a crowd killing three of them. Two of them pull out micro uzi's shooting at him. The Punisher grabs a grenade and throws it at the bar. BANG, The grenade goes and kills the two of them. The other two put their hands up and surrendered. Frank drops his AR. BANG, BANG, He shoots them with his pistol. He walks upstairs where five line a wall of AK's. The Punisher pulls out a stun grenade throwing it at them. BANG, they all drop their guns blind and staggering The Punisher walks in picking up one of their guns firing on them all. He walks to a door with the dead piled up next to it. He kicks it open to see a man in a suit. “I wondered how long it would take for you to find me, Frank. Now I have some you want and in return you'll let me go, unde-.” BANG, “No deal.” Frank starts to pack a duffel bag with money. Once he's done he lights the office on fire and leaves.
He walks to a van getting into the driver's seat. He drives for about thirty minutes to a small house. Walking in he puts the money in the pantree where about fifteen of the same bags are. He puts on the TV playing the news and works on making bullets. “Spider-Man today was responsible for the destruction of one bank. One I go to, when i wanted to go there today I realised I COULDN'T BECAUSE SPIDER-MAN HELPED SANDMAN DESTROY IT AND WHEN THE COPS SHOWED UP HE THREW HIM UNDER AND PRETENDED TO BE THE HERO. Now why do I have to pay for it? Why doesn't he? We know who Captain America is and he destroys a bank because he's civilised and not a maniac.” Frank looks at the TV turning it off and continues working.
Manhattan, New York, 4:21
“PARKER, PARKER, these photos are blurry I'll give you fifty.” Peter looks at him “Mister Jamerson I need a hundred and twenty.” “I need better pictures.” A man walks in “We need pictures Jonah.” He looks at Peter. “Ok one twenty.” He sighs a check giving it to Peter.
Peter leaves and goes to the woman working at the desk in front. “Hey Betty.” Peter gives Betty the check to Betty who gives him the money. “Thanks.” Peter leaves the daily bugle checking phone. He sees that he's missed a call from Captain Stacey. He calls him. “ you at the station up town.” “Ok but which one?” He runs into the alley next to the bugle changing into his costume swinging away. “So which one.” “You won't miss it kid really.” The call ends. “Ok, quite weird but he didn't even say why he needed me.” It takes him about thirty seconds to realise what he's about. In the distance he sees a giant ball of electricity. “Oh no.”
“Where is it?” CRACK, BANG, Electro kills three police officers. Captain Stacey tells all the police officer's to get into the building. “YOU CAN'T HIDE.” Spider-Man swings down checking the pulse of one of the dead police officers. “no. SURRENDER NOW.” Electro flies in front of him. “Or what. At least I'll get to kill you now. Peter.” Peter feels nervous looking around and Captain Stacey shouts for him to get in. “STAY INSIDE CAPTAIN.” The captain goes to one of his men. “Is it ready?” “yeah” Electro shoots electricity at spider-man. BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG. Spider-Man webs a man hole throwing it at him. Electro catches it, Spider-Man using this moment slingshots himself punching Electro multiple times. “I'M DONE PLAYING. YOU KILLED COPS I'M NOT GOING EASY.” Electro smirks at Peter creating an emp knocking Peter down. Electro drops to the ground, shocking him. “AHHHHHHH. BANG, AHHHHHHHH. BANG, AHHHHHHHH.” Electro walks up to Spider-Man who is crawling away. “Poor little Peter Parker. Once I'm done with you I'll deal with the ones you love. Rest in piece Peter Parker.” Electro charges his hands then. BANG.
Manhattan, New York, 16:23
Punisher loads his sniper talking to himself. “Really, they would kill me immediately. At least I'll kill this freak.” He toggles with the scope. “SURRENDER NOW.” “He won't do that kid” he waits for a clear shot. “YOU KILLED COPS I'M NOT GOING EASY.” he waits for his moment. Bang “AHHHHHHH.” Electros hands start to charge he lifts them. “bang.” BANG. A single bullet goes through the chest of Electro. Frank picks up his sniper and walks downstairs.
Walking down he sees Electro holding his chest on the ground and Spider-Man next to him barely alive. The Punisher walks up to Electro with a knife. “No please d-dont do this.” He gets close to Electro as tries to crawl away. The Punisher grabs him and turns him around. Fear in Electros eye's “Once I'm done with you I'll deal with your loved one's.” “No please.” The Punisher stabs him in the throat, killing him. “You know kid stay away from fisk for the next couple of days you understand. Deal with that giant lizard terrorising the city. Got me Parker.” Peter just looks as he starts to lose consciousness. “Good.” Gorge Stacey and his men leave the building telling The Punisher to surrender. He walks away as no one dares goes to arrest him. Gorge gets his men to help Peter.
Manhattan, New York, 7:32 pm
“You've got to take it easy kid. The doctors said you could have died.” Peter listens to Captain Stacey saying. “I know but with this guy out there, bloods gonna spill in the streets.” The Captain sighs. “So what are you going to do.” Peter coughs “I'm going to try and find the lizard first.” “Stay safe kid.” Peter jumps of the empire state building swinging through the city calling MJ to tell May he's staying at hers tonight.
Thirty minutes Later Peter hears on the police radio that a giant lizard is destroying Oscorpe. Swinging over he feels the stitches in him starting to rip.
When he arrives he sees a fire and a chunk of the side of the building gone. He swings in where fire and dead security guards are. “W-who is he?.” He hears a continuous clicking sound. “There aren't any alien space hunters down there, ha ha.” He laughs nervously. Suddenly a human sized lizard runs towards him trying to eat him. He dodges jumping on a wall “Hey I'm from the zoo, they said a lizard needed to be put down. That doesn't make sense. I don't kill. Hey no bitey.” He sees on the lab coat he's wearing it says Dr Connors. Still dodging “Connor's wait Curt Connors how did you. AHHH.” The Lizard scratches Spider-Man across the chest leaving a claw mark. Spider-Man looks up and sees him jumping to bite him. Spider-Man cartwheels backwards into a jump webbing his head and face planting him. “If you chill out I'll give you a box of insects to eat.” The Lizard gets up. “AHHHHHHHH.” Spider-Man looks at him. “Uh I don't know what to say to that. Raw maybe." As Spider-Man gets ready to attack, the Lizard's left arm starts to turn grey. It looks at it and runs away. Spider-Man swings after him through the streets of Manhattan “YOU MIGHT UGLY BUT I'M FINE WITH IT YOU DON'T HAVE TO RUN.” As he swings the lizard throws a hotdog stand at him. He webs it to a wall and keeps swinging. “SERIOUSLY A HOTDOG STAND IF YOU DON'T STOP I'LL TURN YOU INTO A LIZARD DOG. WELL I THOUGHT IT WAS FUNNY.” The lizard goes into an alley into a sewer. Spider-Man follows him slingshotting himself in shouting. “YEAAAAH.”
Inside of the sewers Peter looks around and sees only one way forwards. He crawls ol the walls seeIng the destruction Connor's did. “UH MISTER CONNOR'S, CURT, LIZARD, ANYONE. AM I JUST TALKING TO MYSELF, YES, why did I shout that.” He keeps crawling till he hears shouting. “PLEASE I DIDN'T HAVE CONTROL PLEASE DON'T DO THIS.”
Manhattan, Sewers, New York, 19:28
“Where is this freak? This vermin to society.” The Punisher walks through the sewers trying to find the rat killing innocent people. “HISSSS.” He hears a hiss and feels something watching him. “SHOW YOURSELF YOU FREAK OF NATURE.” A black figure crawls out from the shadow. “Tries to hurt me, hurt Edward. AHHHH.” He hisses and screams at him. He goes to attack him but The Punisher unloads bullets from his M4. Vermin shouts in pain “AHHHHHHHH.” Frank slowly followed him. “YOU CAN'T RUN VERMIN. I'LL KILL YOU MATTER WHAT. I'LL DO WHATEVER, YOU'RE COWARD THAT PREY ON THE WEAK.” “Vermin doesn't prey on the weak. I DON'T HAVE CONTROL, AHHHH. Vermin needs to eat, Edward needs to live.” he scurries away. After a minute of walking he arrived in a circular area where Vermin threw him in. “AHHHHH. Vermin will kill you now.” Frank picks his M4 up again, shooting him. He screams crawling up the wall. The Punisher pulls the trigger when vermin is above it and doesn't do anything. He checks the mag to see it's empty. Vermin drops down Scratching Frank across the face. He pulls out his pistol shooting him in the eye. “AHHHHHH, AHHHHH.” Frank goes up and shoots him on the head, killing him.
He hears a scream further down. Going down the tunnel he sees lab equipment and a lizard transforming into a person. “The Lizard, perfect timing.” Limping, he goes over to The Lizard waiting for him to transform. “AHHHHH, AHHHHHHHHH, HELP PLEASE, AHHHHHHH.” Frank just stands there till he transforms. He pulls his pistol out and points it at Connor's. “You're the lizard. What's your name? WHAT YOUR NAME?” “Connor's. Dr Curtis Connors.” Frank starts to pull the triggers. “PLEASE I DIDN'T HAVE CONTROL PLEASE DON'T DO THIS.”
Peter drops down in front of him webbing his pistol. “We don't kill people, understand.” The Punisher grits his teeth “Back off kid really.” “So you can kill him. Like you did Electro. You told me you were going against Fisk, why are you going for The Lizard.” The Punisher smirks at Peter, making nervous. “I wasn't here for him. It's just a coincidence.” Peter stands there wondering what's next. The Punisher runs towards him Peter jumps over him kicking him in the back. The Punisher hits his head knocking him to the ground Peter uses this to web him up.
“Ok we need to get outta here understand.” Connor's nods and starts to pack his stuff. “I won't kill you kid.” Peter looks at him. “Good because neither will I.” “I'm ready Spider-Man.” Curt says to Peter “Alright let's get outta here.” Peter swings Curt Connors out of the sewers
Manhattan, New York, 8:53 pm
“Ok you need a cure. Uhh, I've got it. I'll take you to the Baxter building. Reed can help you.” Connors thinks. “What if he finds me?” Peter sighs. “It's probably got more security than the raft and it's got four of the best heroes in the world in there.” Connors agrees and Peter swings him there.
When he gets there they walk in. Peter shouts. “REED YOU HERE. REED RICHARDS.” “Peter.” They turn around to see Sue. “Hey Miss Richard's I need your help.” She looks at Peter then at Connor's “What's wrong Peter are you in trouble.” Peter looks at her then Connors. “Not me. Have you ever heard of The Punisher?” She looks confused. “Uhh no why.” “He's trying to kill him. He needs a secure place to stay. And he needs a cure to stop him from turning into a lizard.” She looks. “What about you? Will he kill you?” He sighs “No he won't. He just wants to kill villains.” She looks at Connors saying “Reed is out but he'll be back soon he can make you a cure. Be safe Peter this stuff doesn't end well.” Connor's looks at Peter “Thanks Parker I would never expect you to be a superhero. Miss Richards, can you get my family?”
Peter leaves, going to the top of the Baxter building for some peace. “I'm too tired. I just want to go home but I need to find Fisk.” He checks the wound Connor's left. “I'm losing too much blood. My costume is destroyed and I helped the guy escape death. How am I going to explain this to May my wounds? I can't believe it. First day as an adult and I might not live to see the second. Uncle Ben must think I'm stupid.” He shakes his head. “I've got to go to Fisk tower and warn him.” Peter swings to Fisk tower.
Manhattan, New York, 9:01pm
Spider-Man arrives feeling light headed. He swings up to the office where Fisk and his men are sitting. He opens the door, his men immediately pointing their guns at him. “DROP YOU WEAPONS.” Fisk tells his men. Reluctantly they do Peter Limping towards him. “I need to warn you. A guy, a guy is uh is uh going to kill you.” His voice started to slur and he was barely able to keep his eyes open.” Fisk walks towards him. “You two get the medics now.” Peter falls unconscious.
Waking up Peter wonder's where he is looking around and he sees medical equipment. He gets up and walks through a pair of doors into a room full of men and Fisk working at a desk. “You're awake. You've been out for nine hours.” Peter realises that his face is exposed and Fisk notices this. “We all know who you are, Parker.” Peter walks up to him. “Why did you save me? You're goon tried to kill me yesterday.” Fisk calmly got up saying. “Yesterday you came to warn me. I knew why because of the Punisher. When you came here you were close to death. I saved you because. I need you to defeat the Punisher. I've asked every mercenary in this city and it's the same answer. No before Punisher was a myth but now after the men he's killed. The only one who can defeat him is you.” Peter looks at him. “Who's to say I'll stop him.” “Because yesterday you came here to warn me. The only one who wants me dead that can do anything is him.” Peter looks at him. “Where's my stuff.” Fisk clicks his Fingers and one of his men comes over to Peter giving him his phone, suit and web shooters. Putting them on Peter goes to the window telling Fisk. “Thanks Fisk. You really should leave the city.” Peter swings away.
Queen's New York, 6:09 pm
Peter swings through Queens arriving at his girlfriend's house. He goes to her window knocking on it. She wakes up opening it. When Peter enters he takes off his mask. “I can't do it anymore Peter last night you never showed up. I thought you were dead. This Electro almost killed you and the lizard. Peter I ju- AHH.” She screams seeing Peter's face covered in stitches. “I'm not that ugly.” Peter jokes but MJ says. “What happened yesterday.” Peter sits down “It's a long story.”
Manhattan, New York, Sewers, Time Unknown
“DOWN HERE, THERE'S A LAB.” Two police officers walk down the sewers seeing a lab. They both walk into Connor's lab looking around. “What the hey Chris, what is this place? Chris.” Click the police officer feels a gun to the back of his head. “I'm going to take your gun and handcuffs. And Chris is alright just incapacitated.” Frank takes the cop's gun and handcuffs him to a metal pole.
Leaving the sewers Frank feels the cold air on his face. Checking his watch he realises it is broken. He goes to his van and drives off to his house.
When he gets inside he goes to the kitchen checking the clock. “Wasn't down there for long.” He puts on the TV while he makes shotgun shells. “Breaking news this morning we have word that Spider-Man and the Lizard destroyed Oscorpe hours ago, fleeing in the sewers. They also found the cannibal serial killer known as Vermin dead. They say it's a man dressed in black wearing a white skull on his chest. Now I don't condone murder but I want to personally thank this heroe for dealing with someone Spider-Man probably thinks isn't worth his time.” Punisher looks at the TV and at his shotgun loading. “That's all for now J, Jonah, Jamerson signing off.”
Frank goes into his pantree grabbing a bag of cash. He looks in it seeing about hundred and fifty grand. He takes it to his van with him driving off.
Manhattan, New York, 04:41
Frank walks into a small café and enters. “Mister Castle, quite a busy night was it.” Frank walks up giving him the bag of money. “Do you have the thing?” the man clears his throat. “Yes, your coffee is ready. Hot, two sugars and no milk. That'll be one dollar fifty cents.” Frank looks at the bag and at the device he's buying. He picks it up and leaves. “Keep the change.”
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Spider-Man VS The Punisher
A man walking his footsteps sounds like mini explosions as a row of computers with people typing on them. The man stops upon a window looking down to a glass cage with yellow electricity emerging from it.
“He's here, he's taking us all out. We need back up. Noooo.” The man looks at one of the scientists saying “wait for him to get here.” The man cleans up his suit and tightens his tie.
“Ohhh you're getting dressed up just for me. I shoulda brought flowers.” The man looks up where he sees a man in a red and blue webbed suit. “I should have killed you years ago. Well after today you will be.” “We both know that's not going to happen Willy. I'll arrest you and you'll escape, Rinse and repeat, it's always been like that.” The man grinds his teeth and grips his hands. “Unleash him.” the scientist looks at him and then at the computer pressing a button.
“Unleash him Fisk are you cheating on me with another hero.” as he says this a bolt of lightning strikes through the glass levitating in front of him. “You must be Spiderman. I'm electro, the man that's been tasked to kill you.” Spider-Man whispers to himself. “This guy's making my spider sense go crazy. I don't think this will go well.” he coughs then says. “Shouldn't you be at the circus.” Electro looks at Fisk and says “Leave Mister Fisk now.” Fisk and the scientists walk out into an elevator. “Don't disappoint me Max.” The elevator goes up with Spider-Man and Electro looking at each other “So electricity man are we gonna start.” He looks down to his hands where they start to glow brighter with electricity shooting out. BANG electricity shoots out his hand Spider-Man just dodging it. BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG Spider-Man narrowly dodges the bolts. He creates a continuous line of lightning towards Spider-Man. Cracking Peter tries to dodge it but fails on the ground Peter feels his muscles shut down. Electro walks over to him, shocking him again. “Ahhhhhhh.” He stops Spider-Man trying to crawl away BANG “AHHHHHH.” An alarm goes off as sprinklers also go off hitting Electro causing him to grunt.
Spider-Man using this crawls up a wall into a vent leaving the building Spider-Man takes off his mask feeling the rain hit his face. He hears Fisk talking to Electro below. “Is the job done.” “No, he escaped. The sprinklers set off burning my skin.” “You let him escape. I gave you one job and failed me." Electro looks at him sternly saying “Mister Fisk you gave me these powers and you want me to kill Peter I will. You know where he lives, I can go over there and kill him and his family.” “You will do no such thing. He will not try to kill us if we just go after him he won't understand.” Electro nods and walks away with an umbrella.
Spider-Man looks at his web shooters. “Great, they're gonna have to get the train. May's gonna kill me when I get back.”
Brooklyn, New York, 21:32
“PLEASE, PLEASE DON'T DO IT. I HAVE A FAMILY LOOK. PLEASE I'LL DO ANYTHING. WHAT DO YOU WANT MONEY, POWER.” A man shouts breaking down in fear of whoever is trying to kill him. “I want to know why you do it. Why commit crime when there's hundreds of heroes. I think I know why though. They won't kill, they won't just take the godam leap and end you scumbags. So I chose to do it myself.” The man says in a deep voice wrapping a cord around his neck. He picks him up, showing him a fifteen floor drop. “No, no, please don't do this.” He starts to cry as looks at him blankly, throwing off the building with him screaming for about three seconds till the man hears a snap. “Good Riddens.”
Queen's, New York, 9:29 pm
Walking into a house a teenager walks in “Peter where have y- My god what happened to you?” Peter looks at his aunt and says “Some people tried to rob me, it's alright May.” “Did they take anything? Did you call the police.?” “No and no May I'm fine May.” He looks at May. “I'll call the police.” “DON'T. I never saw what they really looked like, you'll just waste their time.” She looks at him saying “From now on you'll be back before it gets dark.” Peter nods “Now Peter time for your cake Happy Eighteenth Peter.” Peter looks at a cake with candles on it. He blows them out “Thanks May I'm just gonna go to my room I've had a ruff day.” May looks at him. “Are you sure you don't want some cake I've made? It's your favourite.” “I'll have some tomorrow really.” Peter walks up to his room turning on the TV playing the daily bugle. “Today Spider-Man failed to capture this so-called Lizard. I think he's just too lazy to put in any work. When the police lose a suspect their back on the streets trying to find him but Spider-Man swip swap swoops his way down and destroys peoples properties.” Peter looks at it in a rage “People would have died if i wasn't there yet I don't get thanked but hated. Why do I do this?” He looks at the picture next to his bed of him and uncle Ben. The time when he didn't worry if Aunt May would see him tomorrow. If she'll be targeted by villains. “Ben would call me stupid for doing something like this. Even more stupid I was responsible for his death. I couldn't just tell him where I was, I just had to storm out. He goes looking for me and ends up getting shot. I'm sorry Ben.”
Manhattan, New York, 06:34
“What will it be?” “Coffee, milk and two sugars.” She turns around and the man looks at his watch as he checks the time. “06:36 still have seven.” “It's ready. Have an amazing day.” he hands her a ten and leaves. He walks to an old burned building. Walking in he goes up five floors and goes towards a sniper pointing out a window. He takes a sip of his coffee checking his watch. “06:42 one minute.” A minute later a limousine drives up to a small building. A man dressed in a white and gold suit walks. “Gotcha.” BANG, a single bullet from the sniper shoots the man in the head obliterating the back of his head. He walks away with screams of people running and people shouting. “It's him, Punisher, he's here.” Pointing their pistols in the air looking where the shot came from.
Queen's, New York, 7:45 am
BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BE-. Bang Peter hits his alarm destroying it. “Uhh, great way to start the day.” Peter goes to the bathroom brushing his teeth. He leaves the bathroom getting changed into his new clothes then goes to check on his web shooters. “Thank god for the science lab.” Checking his costume he sees it burnt and destroyed. He messages MJ to ask her to bring his spare costume she's working on. He gets his bag and web shooters going downstairs. “Hey Aunt May I'm off to school.” “Not so fast, I've got some cake for you to take.” Petter goes up to May and takes it. “Thanks May love ya bye.” Peter walks out to the school bus.
On the bus he sits next to his girlfriend Mary Jane. “My god Pete what happened to you. Also you suits in my bag.” Peter looks at her saying “New villain in town calls himself Electro.” “You've got to stop doing this Peter really you're going to kill yourself. How many villains do you have?” Peter looks down and says “Well Theirs the lizard, Shocker, Electro, Fisk, Otto Octavius and sin eater. Don't forget about the small time.” She looks at him saying “God why do I put up with you.” “Because I'm irresistible.” She smirks.
A couple hours later Peter only had two lessons left. Peter in the back of his English class looked at his web shooters making sure they still aren't broken and that he fixed them during science. Peter looks at his phone where he sees a notification from the daily bugle saying that sandman is robbing a bank. “Can I go to the bathroom?” Peter shouts. “Sure Mister Parker uh just take the pass.” Peter takes it and leaves. He goes to the janitor's closet putting on his Spidey suit and web shooters jumping out of the window. He looks at his phone while swinging. “Sometimes I wish I had a GPS in my suit instead of needing to use Oscorpe maps.” He swings wondering why sandman is robbing a bank. “He's stupid but not this stupid to rob a bank, especially during the day.” He swings across Queensboro into Manhattan.
When he arrives the swat team surrounds the area with Captain Stacey on standby. Spider-Man drops down in front of him. “Hey.” Looking up Captain Stacey talks to Spider-Man. “Spider-Man good thing you're here we need your help. Sandman has taken over the bank and he has three hostages.” Spider-Man looks at him saying. “Guess you can say things are getting out of sand.” “Sure just when you go in don't destroy much will you.” “I won't captain you know me, just get your officer's to sand back.” Spider-Man does finger guns at Captain Stacey swinging in. “Everyone shut up. I'm gonna pay it off with this score.” Spider-Man slowly swings down “It's ironic that you're named Flint. You know because flint and steel create fire and fire turns you into glass.” “WHAT.” Spider-Man sighs as he launches a kick towards him. He kicks him with Spider-Man going straight through him as this happens he webs his feet and pulls causing him to fall. He goes to punch sandman but punches him through the glass into a police car. CRASH, the police start firing at him but they do nothing. “SPIDER-MAN GET UP.” Captain Stacey shouts at spider-man. Spider-man jumps in slingshotting himself into sandman. He goes straight through him knocking sandman back as well. “Stop this Flint, think of all the good you've done.” He jumps onto the wall looking at a fire hydrant. “Like you've no that won't cut it. Ok you haven't done anything good but that doesn't mean I have to kick your ass again.” Sandman gets up. “You think you can kick my ass again. Not happening.” Spider-Man sighs. “Ok.” Spider-Man jumps down and grabs the fire hydrant and pulls. CRACK, the fire hydrant breaks splashing water all over sandman. “I told you Flint, I always win.” Flint starts to turn into a pile of wet sand. Spider-Man webs the hydrant to stop the water then walks over to Flint. Barely able to keep your normal form. “Screw you.” Spider-Man looks over at the captain. “He's all your captain enjoy.” Spider-Man jumps onto the side of a swat van. “Where do you go when you finish?” “School, besides I'm only missing one class.” Peter says this jumping and swinging away. “About ten minutes getting there. HEY I'M SWINGING HERE. Five minutes there and ten back is enough to miss english.”
Last lesson goes pretty boring for Peter. He's thinking about the lizard and how he escaped yesterday.
Bronx, New York, 15:45
“Nah he'll be here soon. The boss says after today's shipment the police are going to leave the Bronx alone.” An unknown man, clearly a gangster in a suit, is talking to another man in a suit. “Yeah, isn't he worried, though I mean what happened yesterday? You know Freddy.” One of them says “Nah, his new guy almost killed Spider-Man yesterday. He was talking about how he was crawling to escape only got away because of the sprinklers.”
BANG, BANG, The Punisher walks into a restaurant with seven men in suits in it. “HEY WHO LET THIS GUY IN.” The Punisher grabs his M4 and start to spray into a crowd killing three of them. Two of them pull out micro uzi's shooting at him. The Punisher grabs a grenade and throws it at the bar. BANG, The grenade goes and kills the two of them. The other two put their hands up and surrendered. Frank drops his AR. BANG, BANG, He shoots them with his pistol. He walks upstairs where five line a wall of AK's. The Punisher pulls out a stun grenade throwing it at them. BANG, they all drop their guns blind and staggering The Punisher walks in picking up one of their guns firing on them all. He walks to a door with the dead piled up next to it. He kicks it open to see a man in a suit. “I wondered how long it would take for you to find me, Frank. Now I have some you want and in return you'll let me go, unde-.” BANG, “No deal.” Frank starts to pack a duffel bag with money. Once he's done he lights the office on fire and leaves.
He walks to a van getting into the driver's seat. He drives for about thirty minutes to a small house. Walking in he puts the money in the pantree where about fifteen of the same bags are. He puts on the TV playing the news and works on making bullets. “Spider-Man today was responsible for the destruction of one bank. One I go to, when i wanted to go there today I realised I COULDN'T BECAUSE SPIDER-MAN HELPED SANDMAN DESTROY IT AND WHEN THE COPS SHOWED UP HE THREW HIM UNDER AND PRETENDED TO BE THE HERO. Now why do I have to pay for it? Why doesn't he? We know who Captain America is and he destroys a bank because he's civilised and not a maniac.” Frank looks at the TV turning it off and continues working.
Manhattan, New York, 4:21
“PARKER, PARKER, these photos are blurry I'll give you fifty.” Peter looks at him “Mister Jamerson I need a hundred and twenty.” “I need better pictures.” A man walks in “We need pictures Jonah.” He looks at Peter. “Ok one twenty.” He sighs a check giving it to Peter.
Peter leaves and goes to the woman working at the desk in front. “Hey Betty.” Peter gives Betty the check to Betty who gives him the money. “Thanks.” Peter leaves the daily bugle checking phone. He sees that he's missed a call from Captain Stacey. He calls him. “ you at the station up town.” “Ok but which one?” He runs into the alley next to the bugle changing into his costume swinging away. “So which one.” “You won't miss it kid really.” The call ends. “Ok, quite weird but he didn't even say why he needed me.” It takes him about thirty seconds to realise what he's about. In the distance he sees a giant ball of electricity. “Oh no.”
“Where is it?” CRACK, BANG, Electro kills three police officers. Captain Stacey tells all the police officer's to get into the building. “YOU CAN'T HIDE.” Spider-Man swings down checking the pulse of one of the dead police officers. “no. SURRENDER NOW.” Electro flies in front of him. “Or what. At least I'll get to kill you now. Peter.” Peter feels nervous looking around and Captain Stacey shouts for him to get in. “STAY INSIDE CAPTAIN.” The captain goes to one of his men. “Is it ready?” “yeah” Electro shoots electricity at spider-man. BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG. Spider-Man webs a man hole throwing it at him. Electro catches it, Spider-Man using this moment slingshots himself punching Electro multiple times. “I'M DONE PLAYING. YOU KILLED COPS I'M NOT GOING EASY.” Electro smirks at Peter creating an emp knocking Peter down. Electro drops to the ground, shocking him. “AHHHHHHH. BANG, AHHHHHHHH. BANG, AHHHHHHHH.” Electro walks up to Spider-Man who is crawling away. “Poor little Peter Parker. Once I'm done with you I'll deal with the ones you love. Rest in piece Peter Parker.” Electro charges his hands then. BANG.
Manhattan, New York, 16:23
Punisher loads his sniper talking to himself. “Really, they would kill me immediately. At least I'll kill this freak.” He toggles with the scope. “SURRENDER NOW.” “He won't do that kid” he waits for a clear shot. “YOU KILLED COPS I'M NOT GOING EASY.” he waits for his moment. Bang “AHHHHHHH.” Electros hands start to charge he lifts them. “bang.” BANG. A single bullet goes through the chest of Electro. Frank picks up his sniper and walks downstairs.
Walking down he sees Electro holding his chest on the ground and Spider-Man next to him barely alive. The Punisher walks up to Electro with a knife. “No please d-dont do this.” He gets close to Electro as tries to crawl away. The Punisher grabs him and turns him around. Fear in Electros eye's “Once I'm done with you I'll deal with your loved one's.” “No please.” The Punisher stabs him in the throat, killing him. “You know kid stay away from fisk for the next couple of days you understand. Deal with that giant lizard terrorising the city. Got me Parker.” Peter just looks as he starts to lose consciousness. “Good.” Gorge Stacey and his men leave the building telling The Punisher to surrender. He walks away as no one dares goes to arrest him. Gorge gets his men to help Peter.
Manhattan, New York, 7:32 pm
“You've got to take it easy kid. The doctors said you could have died.” Peter listens to Captain Stacey saying. “I know but with this guy out there, bloods gonna spill in the streets.” The Captain sighs. “So what are you going to do.” Peter coughs “I'm going to try and find the lizard first.” “Stay safe kid.” Peter jumps of the empire state building swinging through the city calling MJ to tell May he's staying at hers tonight.
Thirty minutes Later Peter hears on the police radio that a giant lizard is destroying Oscorpe. Swinging over he feels the stitches in him starting to rip.
When he arrives he sees a fire and a chunk of the side of the building gone. He swings in where fire and dead security guards are. “W-who is he?.” He hears a continuous clicking sound. “There aren't any alien space hunters down there, ha ha.” He laughs nervously. Suddenly a human sized lizard runs towards him trying to eat him. He dodges jumping on a wall “Hey I'm from the zoo, they said a lizard needed to be put down. That doesn't make sense. I don't kill. Hey no bitey.” He sees on the lab coat he's wearing it says Dr Connors. Still dodging “Connor's wait Curt Connors how did you. AHHH.” The Lizard scratches Spider-Man across the chest leaving a claw mark. Spider-Man looks up and sees him jumping to bite him. Spider-Man cartwheels backwards into a jump webbing his head and face planting him. “If you chill out I'll give you a box of insects to eat.” The Lizard gets up. “AHHHHHHHH.” Spider-Man looks at him. “Uh I don't know what to say to that. Raw maybe." As Spider-Man gets ready to attack, the Lizard's left arm starts to turn grey. It looks at it and runs away. Spider-Man swings after him through the streets of Manhattan “YOU MIGHT UGLY BUT I'M FINE WITH IT YOU DON'T HAVE TO RUN.” As he swings the lizard throws a hotdog stand at him. He webs it to a wall and keeps swinging. “SERIOUSLY A HOTDOG STAND IF YOU DON'T STOP I'LL TURN YOU INTO A LIZARD DOG. WELL I THOUGHT IT WAS FUNNY.” The lizard goes into an alley into a sewer. Spider-Man follows him slingshotting himself in shouting. “YEAAAAH.”
Inside of the sewers Peter looks around and sees only one way forwards. He crawls ol the walls seeIng the destruction Connor's did. “UH MISTER CONNOR'S, CURT, LIZARD, ANYONE. AM I JUST TALKING TO MYSELF, YES, why did I shout that.” He keeps crawling till he hears shouting. “PLEASE I DIDN'T HAVE CONTROL PLEASE DON'T DO THIS.”
Manhattan, Sewers, New York, 19:28
“Where is this freak? This vermin to society.” The Punisher walks through the sewers trying to find the rat killing innocent people. “HISSSS.” He hears a hiss and feels something watching him. “SHOW YOURSELF YOU FREAK OF NATURE.” A black figure crawls out from the shadow. “Tries to hurt me, hurt Edward. AHHHH.” He hisses and screams at him. He goes to attack him but The Punisher unloads bullets from his M4. Vermin shouts in pain “AHHHHHHHH.” Frank slowly followed him. “YOU CAN'T RUN VERMIN. I'LL KILL YOU MATTER WHAT. I'LL DO WHATEVER, YOU'RE COWARD THAT PREY ON THE WEAK.” “Vermin doesn't prey on the weak. I DON'T HAVE CONTROL, AHHHH. Vermin needs to eat, Edward needs to live.” he scurries away. After a minute of walking he arrived in a circular area where Vermin threw him in. “AHHHHH. Vermin will kill you now.” Frank picks his M4 up again, shooting him. He screams crawling up the wall. The Punisher pulls the trigger when vermin is above it and doesn't do anything. He checks the mag to see it's empty. Vermin drops down Scratching Frank across the face. He pulls out his pistol shooting him in the eye. “AHHHHHH, AHHHHH.” Frank goes up and shoots him on the head, killing him.
He hears a scream further down. Going down the tunnel he sees lab equipment and a lizard transforming into a person. “The Lizard, perfect timing.” Limping, he goes over to The Lizard waiting for him to transform. “AHHHHH, AHHHHHHHHH, HELP PLEASE, AHHHHHHH.” Frank just stands there till he transforms. He pulls his pistol out and points it at Connor's. “You're the lizard. What's your name? WHAT YOUR NAME?” “Connor's. Dr Curtis Connors.” Frank starts to pull the triggers. “PLEASE I DIDN'T HAVE CONTROL PLEASE DON'T DO THIS.”
Peter drops down in front of him webbing his pistol. “We don't kill people, understand.” The Punisher grits his teeth “Back off kid really.” “So you can kill him. Like you did Electro. You told me you were going against Fisk, why are you going for The Lizard.” The Punisher smirks at Peter, making nervous. “I wasn't here for him. It's just a coincidence.” Peter stands there wondering what's next. The Punisher runs towards him Peter jumps over him kicking him in the back. The Punisher hits his head knocking him to the ground Peter uses this to web him up.
“Ok we need to get outta here understand.” Connor's nods and starts to pack his stuff. “I won't kill you kid.” Peter looks at him. “Good because neither will I.” “I'm ready Spider-Man.” Curt says to Peter “Alright let's get outta here.” Peter swings Curt Connors out of the sewers
Manhattan, New York, 8:53 pm
“Ok you need a cure. Uhh, I've got it. I'll take you to the Baxter building. Reed can help you.” Connors thinks. “What if he finds me?” Peter sighs. “It's probably got more security than the raft and it's got four of the best heroes in the world in there.” Connors agrees and Peter swings him there.
When he gets there they walk in. Peter shouts. “REED YOU HERE. REED RICHARDS.” “Peter.” They turn around to see Sue. “Hey Miss Richard's I need your help.” She looks at Peter then at Connor's “What's wrong Peter are you in trouble.” Peter looks at her then Connors. “Not me. Have you ever heard of The Punisher?” She looks confused. “Uhh no why.” “He's trying to kill him. He needs a secure place to stay. And he needs a cure to stop him from turning into a lizard.” She looks. “What about you? Will he kill you?” He sighs “No he won't. He just wants to kill villains.” She looks at Connors saying “Reed is out but he'll be back soon he can make you a cure. Be safe Peter this stuff doesn't end well.” Connor's looks at Peter “Thanks Parker I would never expect you to be a superhero. Miss Richards, can you get my family?”
Peter leaves, going to the top of the Baxter building for some peace. “I'm too tired. I just want to go home but I need to find Fisk.” He checks the wound Connor's left. “I'm losing too much blood. My costume is destroyed and I helped the guy escape death. How am I going to explain this to May my wounds? I can't believe it. First day as an adult and I might not live to see the second. Uncle Ben must think I'm stupid.” He shakes his head. “I've got to go to Fisk tower and warn him.” Peter swings to Fisk tower.
Manhattan, New York, 9:01pm
Spider-Man arrives feeling light headed. He swings up to the office where Fisk and his men are sitting. He opens the door, his men immediately pointing their guns at him. “DROP YOU WEAPONS.” Fisk tells his men. Reluctantly they do Peter Limping towards him. “I need to warn you. A guy, a guy is uh is uh going to kill you.” His voice started to slur and he was barely able to keep his eyes open.” Fisk walks towards him. “You two get the medics now.” Peter falls unconscious.
Waking up Peter wonder's where he is looking around and he sees medical equipment. He gets up and walks through a pair of doors into a room full of men and Fisk working at a desk. “You're awake. You've been out for nine hours.” Peter realises that his face is exposed and Fisk notices this. “We all know who you are, Parker.” Peter walks up to him. “Why did you save me? You're goon tried to kill me yesterday.” Fisk calmly got up saying. “Yesterday you came to warn me. I knew why because of the Punisher. When you came here you were close to death. I saved you because. I need you to defeat the Punisher. I've asked every mercenary in this city and it's the same answer. No before Punisher was a myth but now after the men he's killed. The only one who can defeat him is you.” Peter looks at him. “Who's to say I'll stop him.” “Because yesterday you came here to warn me. The only one who wants me dead that can do anything is him.” Peter looks at him. “Where's my stuff.” Fisk clicks his Fingers and one of his men comes over to Peter giving him his phone, suit and web shooters. Putting them on Peter goes to the window telling Fisk. “Thanks Fisk. You really should leave the city.” Peter swings away.
Queen's New York, 6:09 pm
Peter swings through Queens arriving at his girlfriend's house. He goes to her window knocking on it. She wakes up opening it. When Peter enters he takes off his mask. “I can't do it anymore Peter last night you never showed up. I thought you were dead. This Electro almost killed you and the lizard. Peter I ju- AHH.” She screams seeing Peter's face covered in stitches. “I'm not that ugly.” Peter jokes but MJ says. “What happened yesterday.” Peter sits down “It's a long story.”
Manhattan, New York, Sewers, Time Unknown
“DOWN HERE, THERE'S A LAB.” Two police officers walk down the sewers seeing a lab. They both walk into Connor's lab looking around. “What the hey Chris, what is this place? Chris.” Click the police officer feels a gun to the back of his head. “I'm going to take your gun and handcuffs. And Chris is alright just incapacitated.” Frank takes the cop's gun and handcuffs him to a metal pole.
Leaving the sewers Frank feels the cold air on his face. Checking his watch he realises it is broken. He goes to his van and drives off to his house.
When he gets inside he goes to the kitchen checking the clock. “Wasn't down there for long.” He puts on the TV while he makes shotgun shells. “Breaking news this morning we have word that Spider-Man and the Lizard destroyed Oscorpe hours ago, fleeing in the sewers. They also found the cannibal serial killer known as Vermin dead. They say it's a man dressed in black wearing a white skull on his chest. Now I don't condone murder but I want to personally thank this heroe for dealing with someone Spider-Man probably thinks isn't worth his time.” Punisher looks at the TV and at his shotgun loading. “That's all for now J, Jonah, Jamerson signing off.”
Frank goes into his pantree grabbing a bag of cash. He looks in it seeing about hundred and fifty grand. He takes it to his van with him driving off.
Manhattan, New York, 04:41
Frank walks into a small café and enters. “Mister Castle, quite a busy night was it.” Frank walks up giving him the bag of money. “Do you have the thing?” the man clears his throat. “Yes, your coffee is ready. Hot, two sugars and no milk. That'll be one dollar fifty cents.” Frank looks at the bag and at the device he's buying. He picks it up and leaves. “Keep the change.”
2024.05.29 00:30 Saint-Andros Out of Our Elements A NoP FanFic 20
 | First Previous Next submitted by Saint-Andros to NatureofPredators [link] [comments] --- Set in the universe created by u/SpacePaladin15 MASSIVE THANK YOU, LIKE SERIOUSLY HUGE THANKS to u/weithbec (this chapter would not be nearly as good if not for your help) and additional thanks to u/Liberty-Prime76 for further proofing on top of Weith's monumental efforts As always, some appreciation to u/brotanics, u/LeWombat545, and u/JimDandy117 for the art they have done for this little story of mine. It means the world to me to see my characters brought to life. Links to their work at the bottom of the chapter. --- Memory transcription subject: Tevri, Venlil Romanticist Date [standardized human time]: August 17, 2137 In my hands I held the broken halves of what used to be the makeshift chair that Omo had sat me in. The Krakotl lay motionless on the floor, a large violet gash now visible on the back of his head. There was now a small indentation in the wall, just a few feet away from Jack. The gun Omo had held tumbled to the ground during the scuffle. Smoke still trailed from its barrel, and my sensitive ears rang in the moments following its deafening boom. The broken bits of chair slipped from my hands and clattered to the ground as I fell to the floor. Both hands rose to my mouth as my eyes watered and my ears fell flat against the back of my head. What have I done? There was no chance I was going to just stand there and watch as Jack was executed, but the weight of what I just did was made no lighter by knowing I saved him. This kid very well could have been any of my friends from back on Skalga if not for fate having other plans. Could I even pretend I was still an empathetic person after clubbing a child over the head? They were right, weren’t they? I’ve been a monster this whole time. All it took was the perfect moment for me to snap. “Tevri?” The voice snapped me back to my senses as I turned and saw Jack looking back at me. Shit! I scrambled over, kneeling down beside him. At first I reached out with a paw, but as he winced and hissed while shifting around, I pulled it back. “A-are, you alright?” He asked. “Wha—am I alright?” I bleated out. “You’re the one with a hole in you!” His eyes broke from mine and went back down to his abdomen where crimson blood stained his clothes. Despite the circumstances, he offered a weak laugh. “Ah. Yeah. I am, aren’t I?” “W-we need to call for medical assistance!” “Oh, don’t worry about that. I already called the first responders. They should be here soon. You still didn’t answer my question though. Are you alright?” “I…” Was I? Being knocked unconscious, then being drugged and dragged through the woods to a shack and being held hostage by a former exterminator probably doesn’t constitute “being okay.” “I don’t know.” “Well, do you think you’re alright enough to tie up that kid’s hands behind his back? You got him pretty good but I’d rather not take chances.” I looked over to where Omo lay and saw that he was still motionless. “O-okay, but you may need to guide me.” And guide me he did as I took the binds that once held me and wrapped them around the Krakotl’s arms, pinning them behind his back. I followed Jack’s advice, who did all that he could considering his current state. I took advantage of this moment to distract myself from my thoughts by being busy with my paws, but a distraction only lasts so long, and after a few minutes Omo was properly tied up. I’d occasionally glance towards Jack as he offered instructions, watching as his skin grew more and more pale with every passing moment. Even with the distraction of tying up Omo’s hands, the guilt of knowing there was nothing I could do to help tugged at my heart. After finishing up, I gingerly picked up the firearm and knife that had fallen aside and brought them to him, handing both over. Jack pressed a button on the gun’s side and something slid out of the weapon. He tossed this aside before pulling back the sliding top of it and pulling out a bullet that he also tossed into the dirt. Satisfied, he lay the weapon down beside him. “There,” he said with a sigh. “S-so what now?” “We wait I guess,” he said, looking at me. He tried to slide closer, but as he did, he groaned and pressed a hand to his side, closing his eyes. I let out a quiet whine and my ears fell back against my head, my tail wrapping itself around his leg. “I-it’s going to be alright. I promise.” Despite the obvious pain that wracked his body, a smile touched the corners of his mouth. “You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.” “D-don’t talk like that. Y-you’re going to be fine.” “I think we’re well past that point.” As he said this, he lifted his hand from the spreading stain at his waist and reached out for me. I took his hand in my paw and offered a supportive squeeze. The hand I took hold of was coated in his own blood. It stained my paws as I laced my fingers between his, doing my best to not wretch at the sensation. I don’t think I could say I had ever seen so much blood in my life. The fight to maintain composure was a struggle that I was only just coming out on top of. “J-just stay with me. Okay?” He took a deep breath and squeezed back. “I’m trying my best here. Though I’ve not exactly got a good track record of keeping my word, do I?” “What? What are you talking about?” “C’mon Tev, you don’t gotta mince words just cause I’m dyin’ here. I fucked up bad, and you got hurt.” “It’s okay. W-we can worry about that w-when we’re out of here.” Jack sank further down the wall behind him, slouching and hanging his head. “I dunno. Not so sure they’ll be able to put me back together after this.” “You’re going to be okay. You said it yourself. People are coming to help. We just need to wait a little longer. Just keep on talking to me. You can do that, right?” He gave a slow nod. “I’ll try my best, but it’s hard. Everything’s a little… foggy. Don’t know how much blood I’ve lost. Probably too much though.” Panic gripped my heart. No, no, no! This can’t be happening. Stars above. Please… I can’t lose someone else. Not again. “You have to hold on. I need you.” Jack gave a weak chuckle. “Naw. I don’t think you ever needed me. If anything, you’d be better off without me here to scare you half to death. Hell, if it hadn’t been for me neither of us’d be here in the first place.” The translator was still doing its job, but I could hear his voice had grown weaker. Each word was a struggle. “You made a mistake. Just another to add to the pile. What matters is that you’re sorry. We’ll sort this all out once we know you’re safe, but for now, just focus on staying with me.” Jack’s face twisted, his eyebrows furrowing and his face softening. “H-how? How can you still believe in me? You trusted me to protect you and I failed.” I shook my head. “There aren’t enough seconds in the day to count how many times I’ve failed the people I love.” Gently, I bumped my head up against his shoulder and wrapped my claws around his arm. “But it took me meeting you to realize that we’re more than just our failures.” “I… glad I was able to help.” The strength of his hand held in mine waned, and I squeezed it tighter to make up for the loss. “We’re going to make it through this together. We have to.” “We’ll see.” We continued to wait like this, each minute dragging on for a small eternity. I didn’t want to sap his strength, so I elected to remain silent. In this silence, the distraction from my thoughts melted away, leaving me exposed. I shot a glance to where Omo still lay. His body rose and fell as he breathed, so there was that at least, but otherwise he was out cold. Look at what you’ve done. How would your family feel about this? How would your friends feel? A number of his feathers lay strewn about in a pile around him from the force of the impact. I—I did it to protect him. I had to. There was no other choice! There’s always a choice. I couldn’t just let him die! You may be right, but what does it say that your first thought was resorting to violence? Maybe your parents were right. Maybe something is wrong with you. No. I will not allow myself to regret this. There was no other choice in the heat of the moment. I did what I did, but it’s done now. All that matters is that Jack makes it out to get the help he needs. As I stamped out the fire among my thoughts, Jack broke the silence as he softly spoke up.“So. If we do manage to make it out of here, what happens to us?” I hummed in contemplation. “I don’t know. Do… Do you still think this could work?” “I’ll leave that up to you. Lord knows whether I deserve to have someone like you in my life after the shit I’ve pulled.” My ears fell flat against the back of my head. As much as I may have wanted to deny it, he hurt me. He knew the weakness of my flighty instincts and took advantage of them to scare me off in his anger. Sure, he was sorry, but could sorry even heal these wounds? The safety I felt in his presence was wounded by what he had done. Maybe given time, that wound could heal, but would a relationship like ours even have the chance to do so? Time. Yeah. That’s what we need. “I think we need to give it some time.” Jack grunted. “A shame it doesn’t seem like we’ve got much left. Or rather, doesn’t seem like I’ve got much left. If it wasn’t already obvious, I’m not doing too hot.” “Don’t talk like that,” I pleaded. “I’m sorry it had to go this way,” he muttered. “M-maybe if we’d taken us a bit slower this wouldn’t’ve hurt so much. It was stupid of me. I’ve barely known you all of a week and I’ve fallen head over heels only to throw it all away.” I squeezed his arm tight. “Please,” I mewled. “Even if what we’ve found here doesn’t last past this week, I still want you in my life. Can you hold on just a little longer for me?” Tears began to well up in the man’s eyes as a smile crept across his face. “I’ll try my best. How about for now though, I hold on to you?” He took both arms and held them outward. Considering the stress, the terror, the fear, and the pain that had plagued me today, the opportunity of an embrace was too much to pass up. “I think I’d like that.” I came in closer, and Jack pulled his hand from his abdomen to wrap it around me, pulling me closer. I let go of his other arm, and he repeated the motion with his other hand, pulling me up against his body with both arms in a tight hug as I lay sprawled across his chest. My face settled right beneath Jack’s. His deep blue eyes stared directly into mine as we sat there together. He ran a hand across the back of my head, parsing the wool on my crown. His breath tickled my face, causing a bloom of orange to spread across it. Though perhaps fractured and damaged like both of our bodies right now, the sense of safety I felt before when with him began to grow once more within me. “This is nice,” I whispered. “Yeah…” he leaned in closer to my face, red rushing to his cheeks as he did so. “I uh, I’ve been meaning to do this for a little while now. Figure it’d be best to do it while I still can.” “Wha—” Jack leaned in and interrupted me as his lips met my snout, pressing against my mouth and into it. The warmth of his body against me and his breath mixed with mine, stirring up an intoxicating cocktail of conflicting sensations. I had heard of and even seen humans kissing before, but I always found it odd — until now that is. A display such as this, to join your mouth against someone else's, would have once been deemed outright predatory and discouraged by exterminator guidelines. Then again, I never did care too much for such rules. We both held out for as long as we could until I needed to breathe, then after a quick gasp, I dove back in again. The warmth shared between us was greater than the light of the sun, and so I closed my eyes, allowing myself to bask in its radiance. For this moment, I allowed my worries to melt away as I melted in his arms and we gave ourselves to each other. All good things must come to an end though, and with no small amount of hesitance, I pulled myself away. I breathed heavily through my mouth, catching my breath to chase away what I now realized was a sense of lightheadedness — one which was most likely brought on by said lack of breathing. “Wow, that was… wow.” There was no response, only the quick, shallow rise and fall of his chest as I took note of a gentle buzzing that I hadn’t noticed before. Both ears perked upright of their own volition and turned to face the door of the hovel. I could tell that even Jack had heard it as he shifted where he sat and lifted his head to look outside. “Is that…” As I trailed off, Jack offered an answer, his voice more quiet than the last time he spoke. “Yeah. I think that’s them. Shouldn’t be long before they show up.” The man offered another weak squeeze that made me realize just how cold he’d grown. Most of the warmth shared between us was my own, but there was only so much it could do to help. The hope that sprouted in my heart was just as quickly stamped out the moment he spoke. “I-I’m getting real sleepy here sheep. J-just… just stay safe for me, okay?” “What? No! No, no, no! Hey! Stay with me!” I began to try and rock him back and forth to keep him awake, but he didn’t seem to respond. “They—they’re going to be here soon,” I stammered. “Everything will be alright.” As he closed his eyes, he whispered one last time. “No… everything… is.” The tears flowed freely now as I continued in vain to try and keep him awake. “Jack? Stay with me!” I bumped my head against his, shook his shoulders, pinched his arm, and even resorted to pounding against his chest to try and wake him. “Please, I—I can’t lose someone else. Not like this… not like this…” The sound of the humming had only grown louder during my desperate attempts to bring him back. After nothing I could do stirred him, I curled up against his chest and waited, placing my head beneath his to offer it support rather than allow it to loll forward. With my ears pressed against his chest, I could hear the faint thump-thump of his heartbeat. I didn’t know how fast a human’s heart was supposed to beat, but if that of a Venlil’s was in any way comparable, it was far too slow for comfort. His arms no longer wrapped around me, instead lying limp at his side. My tail twined around his leg, and I hugged my chest with both arms, one eye pressed against his chest while the other was stuck on the door leading outside. The hum had grown to a roar, but soon enough, its growth halted. The thumping in my chest raced as though it were trying to make up for Jack’s own fading heart, or catch up to the constant, rhythmic thrumming. Without warning, the door burst open and I squealed as blinding lights illuminated the room. I raised both paws to cover my face, but the damage was already done. Everything became a blurry haze. The room was filled with shouting that shot back and forth between different voices. They were gruff and gravelly as their growled words played themselves back through my translator. Before my vision properly returned, I heard a voice break through the crowd of others. “Ma’am? Ma’am, are you okay?” A hand grabbed my shoulder and gently shook it. I looked up to a figure in a helmet and mask, but I didn’t have the energy to work up a response. Instead, I shifted gently where I lay. “I need to move you if you’ll let me.” Again, I didn’t budge. Hands scooped me up, with only a slight amount of resistance on my part as I wriggled in an attempt to return to where I lay. I wanted to stay with him, but a human’s strength was something I couldn’t dare hope to surpass — why even bother? The blurriness faded just enough to allow me a view of what I was leaving behind. Human-shaped figures in dark clothing surrounded Jack, leaning over him to readjust his body. I caught mention of “blood loss,” and “shock” before being whisked outside where the voices died down and the source of the humming became apparent. Through the darkness of night, lights illuminated the two helicopters hovering in the air. Their blades cut through the air, blowing the bows of the trees below and sending ripples through the grass. Ropes hung from each helicopter, and from one of them, three more of these similarly dressed humans slid down them to join their compatriots. The human that carried me set me down outside on the ground, where I wrapped both arms around my legs and set my head on my knees. I tried to muster up the energy to do something, anything, but it just wasn’t there. I flinched as two hands grasped my shoulders, but when turning around, I relaxed. A reflective blanket had been wrapped around me by the same human that had carried me out. Their mask and helmet had since been removed to reveal their piercing green eyes, dark skin, and short curly hair. I wasn’t exactly used to such a sight — their sight — I would have practically wilted under them a week ago. They walked around, crouching down to an eye level in front of me. “Are you hurt Ma’am?” If their voice was anything to go by, they seemed to be a woman, though it was difficult to say for sure beneath the bulky layers of armor they wore. I blinked once, then snapped back to focus. “Is he going to be okay?” She shrugged. “I’m not sure.” The answer wasn’t exactly a comforting one, but after giving it, she placed a hand on my shoulders and locked eyes with me. “But I can tell you this. Our paramedics will do everything they can to make sure he will be.” Though it was no guarantee, these words did offer some small amount of comfort. Almost a year ago now, some unlikely friends offered comfort in a similar — if not quite so dire — situation. It was only right that I respond now just as I did then. I threw both arms forward, wrapping them around the neck of this woman in as tight a hug as I was able to offer. “Thank you.” “Oh. Uh… sure. Glad I could help.” She wrapped her arms around me in turn, scrunching up the blanket she had just offered me. He’ll make it. He has to. --- Cover Image Tevri in a sweater - By u/Brotanics Tevri - By u/Brotanics A Depiction of Jack's Dream - By u/LeWombat545 Tevri (Discord Nitro Exchange Commision >:D ) - By u/JimDandy117 Lil' Goob Tevri - By u/JimDandy117 --- First Previous Next |
2024.05.29 00:18 calvin324hk [H] 1000+ Games / DLCs / VR Games [W] Paypal / Wishlist / Offers
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- Zen Chess: Mate in One, Mate in 2 , Mate in 3 , Mate in 4 , Champion's Moves (5 games)
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- Europa Universalis IV: Wealth of Nations
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- Total War: Shogun 2 - Rise of the Samurai
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- Train Sim World®: Nahverkehr Dresden - Riesa
- Train Sim World®: Northern Trans-Pennine: Manchester - Leeds
- Train Sim World®: Peninsula Corridor: San Francisco - San Jose
- Train Sim World®: Rhein-Ruhr Osten: Wuppertal - Hagen
- Train Sim World®: Tees Valley Line: Darlington - Saltburn-by-the-sea
- Worms Rumble - Armageddon Weapon Skin Pack
- Worms Rumble - Captain & Shark Double Pack
- Worms Rumble - Legends Pack
- Worms Rumble - New Challengers Pack
- Ashampoo Photo Optimizer 7
- Dagon: by H. P. Lovecraft - The Eldritch Box DLC
- Duke Nukem Forever Hail to the Icons
- Duke Nukem Forever The Doctor Who Cloned Me
- GRIP: Combat Racing - Cygon Garage Kit
- GRIP: Combat Racing - Nyvoss Garage Kit
- GRIP: Combat Racing - Terra Garage Kit
- GRIP: Combat Racing - Vintek Garage Kit
- GameGuru
- GameMaker Studio 2 Creator 12 Months
- Intro to Game Development with Unity
- Music Maker EDM Edition
- Neverwinter Nights: Darkness Over Daggerford
- Neverwinter Nights: Enhanced Edition Dark Dreams of Furiae
- Neverwinter Nights: Enhanced Edition Tyrants of the Moonsea
- Neverwinter Nights: Enhanced Edition
- Neverwinter Nights: Infinite Dungeons
- Neverwinter Nights: Pirates of the Sword Coast
- Neverwinter Nights: Wyvern Crown of Cormyr
- PDF-Suite 1 Year License
- Pathfinder Second Edition Core Rulebook and Starfinder Core Rulebook
- RPG Maker VX
- WWE 2K BATTLEGROUNDS - Ultimate Brawlers Pass
- We Are Alright
- The Outer Worlds Expansion Pass
- A Hat in Time - Seal the Deal DLC
- City Skylines:mass transit
- A Game Of Thrones - A Dance With Dragons
- A Game Of Thrones - A Feast For Crows
- Blood Rage: Digital Edition - Gods of Asgard
- Blood Rage: Digital Edition - Mythical Monsters
- Blood Rage: Digital Edition - Mystics of Midgard
- Carcassonne - The Princess and The Dragon DLC
- Carcassonne - Traders & Builders DLC
- Carcassonne - Winter & Gingerbread Man DLC
- Carcassonne - Inns & Cathedrals
- Carcassonne - The River
- Splendor: The Trading Posts DLC
- Splendor: The Strongholds DLC
- Splendor: The Cities DLC
- Small World - Be Not Afraid... DLC
- Small World - Grand Dames DLC
- Small World - Cursed!
- Sands of Salzaar - The Ember Saga
- Sands of Salzaar - The Tournament
- Monster Train: The Last Divinity DLC
- WARSAW
2024.05.29 00:18 calvin324hk [H] 1000+ Games / DLCs / VR Games [W] Paypal / Wishlist / Offers
https://www.reddit.com/IGSRep/comments/pikmri/calvin324hks_igs_rep_page/
https://www.reddit.com/sgsflaicomments/of2wzu/flair_profile_ucalvin324hk/
Wishlist
Region: NA (Canada)
Fees on buyer if any, currency is USD unless specified
CTRL + F to find your games in terms of name
DLCs and Softwares:
submitted by calvin324hk to SteamGameSwap [link] [comments]
https://www.reddit.com/sgsflaicomments/of2wzu/flair_profile_ucalvin324hk/
Wishlist
Region: NA (Canada)
Fees on buyer if any, currency is USD unless specified
CTRL + F to find your games in terms of name
- 10 Second Ninja X
- 11-11 Memories Retold
- 112 Operator
- 12 is Better Than 6
- 198X
- 1993 Space Machine
- 60 Parsecs
- 7 Billion Humans
- 8 DOORS
- 8-bit Adventure Anthology: Volume I
- 9 Years of Shadows
- 911 Operator
- A Game of Thrones: The Board Game
- A Hat in Time
- A Hole New World
- A JUGGLER'S TALE
- A Long Way Down
- A PLAGUE TALE: INNOCENCE
- A Robot Named Fight!
- A Tale for Anna
- A.I.M.2 Clan Wars
- Abalon (Summoners Fate)
- Above Snakes
- ABZU
- Ace Combat Assault Horizon Enhanced Edition
- ADOM
- Adore
- Aegis Defenders
- Aeterna Noctis
- AETHERIS
- Agatha Christie Hercule Poirot The First Cases
- AIdol
- Airborne Kingdom
- Alba: A Wildlife Adventure
- Alder's Blood: Definitive Edition
- Alfred Hitchcock - Vertigo
- Alien Breed Trilogy
- Aliens vs. Predator™ Collection
- All-Star Fruit Racing
- Almost There: The Platformer
- American Fugitive
- American Truck Simulator
- Amerzone: The Explorer’s Legacy
- AMID EVIL
- Amnesia rebirth
- Amnesia: The Dark Descent + Amnesia: A Machine for Pigs
- Anomalous
- Another World – 20th Anniversary Edition
- Antigraviator
- Anuchard
- APICO
- APICO
- Aragami
- Aragami 2
- Arboria
- Arcade Paradise
- Arcade Paradise - Arcade Paradise EP
- Arcade Spirits
- Arkham Horror: Mother's Embrace
- Armada 2526 Gold Edition
- Army Men RTS
- army of ruin
- Arto
- Ary and the Secret of Seasons
- As Far as the Eye
- Ascension to the Throne
- Assemble With Care
- Assetto Corsa Competizione
- Assetto Corsa Ultimate Edition
- Astebreed Definitive Edition
- Astro Colony
- Astronarch
- Attack of the Earthlings
- Automachef
- Automobilista
- Automobilista 2
- AUTONAUTS
- AUTONAUTS VS PIRATEBOTS
- Avatar: Frontiers of Pandora™ - Ubisoft Connect
- AVICII Invector: Encore Edition
- Awesomenauts All Nauts pack
- Axiom Verge
- Axiom Verge 2
- Baba is you
- Back 4 Blood
- Back 4 blood (EU)
- Backbone
- Baldur's Gate II: Enhanced Edition
- Baldur's Gate: Enhanced Edition
- Banners of Ruin
- Bartlow's Dread Machine
- Basement
- Batbarian: Testament of the Primordials
- Batman: Arkham Asylum Game of the Year Edition
- Batman: Arkham Origins
- Battle Royale Tycoon
- Battlecruisers
- Battlestar Galactica Deadlock
- BATTLESTAR GALACTICA DEADLOCK SEASON ONE
- Battlestar Galactica Deadlock: Complete
- BATTLETECH MERCENARY COLLECTION
- BATTLETECH Shadow Hawk Pack
- BEAUTIFUL DESOLATION
- Bee Simulator
- BEFORE WE LEAVE
- Beholder 2
- Ben 10
- Ben 10: Power Trip
- Bendy and the Ink Machine™
- Between the Stars
- Beyond a Steel Sky
- Beyond The Edge Of Owlsgard
- BEYOND THE WIRE
- Beyond: Two Souls
- BIOMUTANT
- Bionic Commando
- Bionic Commando Rearmed
- BioShock: The Collection
- BLACK BOOK
- Black Moon Chronicles
- Black Paradox
- BLACK SKYLANDS
- BLACKHOLE: Complete Edition
- Blacksad: Under the Skin
- Blade of Darkness
- Blasphemous
- Blazing Chrome
- Blightbound
- Blood And Zombies
- Blood Rage: Digital Edition
- Bloodstained: Ritual of the Night
- Blue Fire
- Bomber Crew
- Boneless Zombie
- Boomerang Fu
- Borderlands 3
- Borderlands 3 Super Deluxe
- Borderlands 3 Super Deluxe Edition
- Borderlands: The Handsome Collection
- Bot Vice
- Bounty of One
- Brawlout
- Breakout: Recharged
- Breathedge
- bridge constructor
- Bridge constructor medieval
- bridge constructor stunts
- Broken Lines
- Brothers: A Tale of Two Sons
- Brutal Legend
- Bug Fables: The Everlasting Sapling
- BUILDER SIMULATOR
- calico
- Call of Duty® Modern Warfare 3™ (2011)
- Call of Juarez: Gunslinger
- Capitalism 2
- Car Mechanic 2018
- Car Mechanic Simulator 2015
- Car Mechanic Simulator 2018
- Cardboard Town
- Castle Morihisa
- castle storm
- CastleStorm
- Cat Cafe Manager
- Catherine Classic
- Caveblazers
- Celeste
- Centipede: Recharged
- Cepheus Protocol
- CHANGE: A Homeless Survival Experience
- Charlie's Adventure
- Chenso Club
- Chernobylite: Enhanced Edition
- Chess Ultra
- Chicago 1930 : The Prohibition
- Chivalry 2
- Chop Goblins
- Chorus
- Chorus
- Circuit Superstars
- Cities Skylines + After Dark
- Cities: Skylines
- City of Beats
- CivCity: Rome
- Click and Slay
- Cloud Gardens
- Cloudpunk
- Code Vein
- Coffee Talk
- Comedy Night
- Command & Conquer Remastered (Origin)
- Complete Dread X Collection
- Conarium
- Construction Simulator (2015) Deluxe Edition
- Constructor Plus
- Control
- Cook, Serve, Delicious! 3
- Cook, Serve, Delicious! 3?!
- Cookie Cutter
- cornucopia
- Corridor Z
- Cosmic Osmo and the Worlds Beyond the Mackerel
- Cosmonautica
- Crash Drive 2
- Crash Drive 3
- Creaks
- Creepy Tale
- Crookz the big heist
- CROSSBOW: Bloodnight
- Crush Your Enemies
- Cube Runner
- Cultist Simulator: Anthology Edition
- Curse: The Eye of Isis
- Cyber Ops
- Cybercube
- Danger Scavenger
- Dark Deity
- Dark Future
- DARK PICTURES ANTHOLOGY: HOUSE OF ASHES
- Darkwood
- DARQ: Complete Edition
- Day of the Tentacle Remastered
- days of war definitive edition
- Dead by Daylight
- Dead Estate
- Dead Rising 2
- Deadly Days
- Dear Esther: Landmark Edition
- DEATH STRANDING DIRECTOR'S CUT
- Death's Gambit
- Deceased
- DECEIVE INC.
- Degrees of Separation
- Deleveled
- Delicious! Pretty Girls Mahjong Solitaire
- Deliver Us The Moon
- Demetrios - Deluxe Edition
- Depraved
- DESCENDERS
- Desert Child
- DESOLATE
- Destiny 2: Beyond Light
- DESTROYER: THE U-BOAT HUNTER
- Detention
- Devil May Cry HD Collection
- Devilated
- Dicey Dungeons
- Dirt 5
- dirt rally
- Dirt Rally 2.0
- Disaster Band
- Disciples III: Reincarnation
- Discolored
- Disjunction (GOG)
- DISTRAINT 2
- Distrust
- DmC: Devil May Cry
- Do Not Feed the Monkeys
- Don't Be Afraid
- Doomed Lands
- Door Kickers: Action Squad
- Doorways: Prelude
- Downfall
- Dragons Dogma Dark Arisen
- Dragon's Dogma: Dark Arisen
- Drake Hollow
- Draugen
- Draw Slasher
- Drawful 2
- Dreams in the Witch House
- Dreamscaper
- DreamWorks Dragons: Dawn of New Riders
- DRIFT21
- Driftland: The Magic Revival
- drive!drive!drive!
- Drone Swarm
- Due Process
- Duke Nukem: Manhattan Project
- Duke of Alpha Centauri
- Dungeon Rushers
- Dungeons 2
- Dungeons 3
- DUSK
- Dusk Diver
- Dust to the End
- Dynopunk
- Earth Defense Force 4.1 The Shadow of New Despair
- Eastern Exorcist
- Eastward
- Effie
- Eiyuden Chronicle: Rising
- El Matador
- Elderand
- Elderborn
- ELDEST SOULS
- Electrician Simulator
- Elemental Survivors
- Elex
- Elex II
- Elite Dangerous
- Embr
- Empire: Total War - Definitive Edition
- Empyrion - Galactic Survival
- ENCASED: A SCI-FI POST-APOCALYPTIC RPG
- Encodya (GOG)
- Endless Space 2
- Endless Space 2 - Digital Deluxe Edition
- Endless Space® 2 - Digital Deluxe Edition
- Endzone - A World Apart
- Epistory - Typing Chronicles
- Escape the backrooms
- Eternal Threads
- Etherborn
- Europa Universalis IV
- European Ship Simulator
- Everdream Valley
- Evil Genius 2: World Domination
- Exorder
- EXPEDITIONS: ROME
- Explosionade
- F1 2018
- F1 2019 Anniversary Edition
- F1 2020
- F1 RACE STARS Complete Edition Include DLC
- Fable Anniversary
- Factory Town
- Fallback uprising
- FALLOUT 1
- Family Man
- Family Mysteries 3: Criminal Mindset
- Fantasy Blacksmith
- FARMER'S DYNASTY
- Farming Simulator 17
- Farming Simulator 19
- Fictorum
- Field of Glory II
- Fights in Tight Spaces
- Filthy Animals Heist Simulator
- Firefighting Simulator - The Squad
- Fishing Adventure
- Flashback
- FLATLAND Vol.2
- FlatOut
- FLING TO THE FINISH
- Floppy Knights
- Fluffy Horde
- FOBIA - ST. DINFNA HOTEL
- For the King
- Forgive me Father
- Forts
- Framed Collection
- Fred3ric
- Fresh Start Cleaning Simulator
- Friends vs Friends
- Frog detective 2: The Case of the Invisible Wizard
- Frogun
- From Space
- From the Depths
- Frostpunk: Game of the Year Edition
- Frozenheim
- Fun with Ragdolls: The Game
- Funtasia
- Fury Unleashed
- Gamedec
- Gamedec - Definitive Edition
- Gang Beasts
- GARAGE bad trip
- Garden Story
- Garfield Kart
- GAS STATION SIMULATOR
- Gelly Break Deluxe
- Genesis Alpha One Deluxe Edition
- Gevaudan
- Ghost Song
- Ghostrunner
- Giana Sisters 2D
- GIGA WRECKER
- Gigantosaurus: Dino Kart
- Glitch Busters: Stuck On You
- Gloria Victis
- Go Home Dinosaurs
- Goat of Duty
- GOD EATER 3
- Godlike Burger
- Godstrike
- Going Under
- Golf Gang
- Golf It!
- Gone Home + Original Soundtrack
- Good Knight
- Gotham Knights
- GREAK: MEMORIES OF AZUR
- GREEDFALL
- Gremlins, inc
- grey goo
- GRID - 2019
- grid ultimate
- GRIP: Combat Racing
- Gungrave G.O.R.E
- Guppy
- Guts and glory
- GYLT
- Hacknet
- Haegemonia: Legions of Iron
- Hamilton's Great Adventure
- Hammerting
- Hammerwatch
- Hands of Necromancy
- Havsala: Into the Soul Palace
- Headsnatchers
- Heartwood Heroes
- Heat Signature
- Heaven's Vault
- Helheim Hassle
- Hell Let Loose
- Hellblade: Senua's Sacrifice
- Hellbound
- Hellpoint
- Hellslave
- Hellstuck: Rage With Your Friends
- Hero of the Kingdom III
- Hero of the Kingdom: The Lost Tales 2
- Heroes of Hammerwatch
- Heros hour
- Hexologic
- Hidden & Dangerous 2: Courage Under Fire
- Hidden & Dangerous: Action Pack
- Hidden Deep
- Hi-Fi Rush
- High On Life
- Hitman (2016) Game of the Year Edition
- HITMAN 2 - Gold Edition
- Hoa
- Hob
- Hollow Knight
- Holy Potatoes! A Spy Story?!
- Home Sweet Home
- Home Sweet Home EP2
- Homestead Arcana
- Hood: Outlaws & Legends
- Hoplegs
- Hot Tin Roof: The Cat That Wore A Fedora
- HOT WHEELS UNLEASHED ™
- Hotshot Racing
- House Flipper
- How to Survive 2
- Hue
- Human: Fall Flat
- HUMANKIND DEFINITIVE EDITION
- Hungry Flame
- Hylics 2
- Hyper Knights
- I am Bread
- I Am Fish
- I am not a Monster: First Contact
- I Hate Running Backwards
- ibb & obb Double Pack
- ICBM
- Ice Age Scrat's Nutty Adventure
- Ice Lakes
- Impostor Factory
- IN SOUND MIND
- Indivisible
- INDUSTRIA
- Infectonator 3: Apocalypse
- Infinite Beyond The Mind
- Injustice 2 Legendary Edition
- Insane 2
- INSOMNIA: The Ark
- Internet Cafe Simulator
- Internet Cafe Simulator 2
- Interstellar Space: Genesis
- Iris and the Giant
- Iron Fisticle
- Iron Harvest
- Ittle Dew
- Ittle Dew 2+
- Jack Move
- Jackbox party pack 2
- Jackbox party pack 5
- JANITOR BLEEDS
- Joint Task Force
- Jotun: Valhalla Edition
- Journey For Elysium
- Journey to the Savage Planet
- JUMANJI: The Video Game
- JumpJet Rex
- Jupiter Hell
- Jurassic Park: The Game
- Jurassic World Evolution
- Jurassic World Evolution 2
- JUST CAUSE 4: COMPLETE EDITION
- Just Die Already
- Kardboard Kings: Card Shop Simulator
- Keep Talking and Nobody Explodes
- Ken Follett's The Pillars of the Earth
- Kentucky Route Zero - Season Pass Edition
- Kerbal Space Program
- Kill it with Fire
- Killing Floor 2 Digital Deluxe Edition
- Killing Room
- Kingdom Two Crowns
- Kingdom: New Lands
- King's Bounty: Crossworlds
- Knights of Pen & Paper 2
- Knock-knock
- Koi-Koi Japan [Hanafuda playing cards] *Koi-Koi Japan : UKIYOE tours Vol.1 DLC *Koi-Koi Japan : UKIYOE tours Vol.2 DLC *Koi-Koi Japan : UKIYOE tours Vol.3 DLC
- Konung 2
- KungFu Kickball
- Labyrinthine
- Lair of the Clockwork God
- Laserlife
- LAST OASIS
- Lawn Mowing Simulator
- Layers of Fear: Masterpiece Edition
- Lead and Gold: Gangs of the Wild West
- Learn Japanese To Survive! Hiragana Battle
- Learn Japanese To Survive! Katakana War
- Learn Japanese to Survive! Trilogy
- Legend of Keepers
- LEGION TD 2 - MULTIPLAYER TOWER DEFENSE
- LEGION TD 2 - MULTIPLAYER TOWER DEFENSE.
- Leisure Suit Larry - Wet Dreams Don't Dry
- Leisure Suit Larry 1-7
- Lemnis Gate
- Lemon Cake
- lethal league blaze
- Let's School
- Levelhead
- Liberated (GOG)
- Life is Strange Complete Season (Episodes 1-5)
- Light Fairytale Episode 1
- Light Fairytale Episode 2
- LIGHTMATTER
- Little dragons cafe
- Little Hope
- Little Inner Monsters - Card Game
- Little Misfortune
- Little Nightmares
- Little Nightmares Complete Edition
- Livelock
- Loop Hero
- Loot River
- Looterkings
- Lornsword Winter Chronicle
- Lost Castle
- Love Letter
- Lovecraft's Untold Stories
- Lovely planet arcade
- Lucius2
- Lucius3
- Ludus
- Lumberhill
- Lunacid
- LunarLux
- Lust for Darkness
- Lust from Beyond: M Edition
- Mad Experiments: Escape Room
- Mad Max
- Mafia Definitive Edition
- Mafia iii
- Mafia: Definitive Edition
- Magenta Horizon
- Mahjong Pretty Girls Battle
- Mahjong Pretty Girls Battle : School Girls Edition
- Maid of Sker
- Mail Time
- Maize
- Maneater
- Marooners
- MARSUPILAMI - HOOBADVENTURE
- Marvel's Avengers - The Definitive Edition
- Mato Anomalies
- Max Payne 3
- Mechs & Mercs: Black Talons
- Medieval II: Total War - Definitive Edition
- Medieval: Total War Collection
- MEEPLE STATION
- Men of War
- MERCHANT OF THE SKIES
- METAL HELLSINGER
- Metal Hellsinger
- Metro Exodus
- Metro last light
- Metro: Last Light Redux
- Middle-earth: Shadow of Mordor GOTY
- Middle-earth: Shadow of Mordor GOTY
- Middle-Earth: Shadow of War Definitive Edition
- MIDNIGHT PROTOCOL
- Mighty Switch Force! Collection
- Milky Way Prince - The Vampire Star
- MIND SCANNERS
- Ministry of Broadcast
- Minute of Islands
- Miscreated
- Mists of Noyah
- MKXL
- Mob Factory
- Mob Rule Classic
- Monaco
- Monster Hunter: Rise
- Monster Slayers - Complete Edition
- Monstrum
- Monstrum 2
- Moon Hunters
- Moons of Madness
- MORDHAU
- Mordheim: City of the Damned
- Mortal Kombat 11 Ultimate Edition
- MORTAL KOMBAT XL
- Mortal Shell
- Motorcycle Mechanic Simulator 2021
- Mr. Run and Jump
- MudRunner
- Murder Mystery Machine
- My Big Sister
- My Friend Peppa Pig
- My Little Universe
- My Lovely Wife
- My Summer Adventure: Memories of Another Life
- My Time At Portia
- Mythforce
- N++ (NPLUSPLUS)
- Napoleon: Total War - Definitive Edition
- NARUTO TO BORUTO: SHINOBI STRIKER
- Necesse
- NECROMUNDA: HIRED GUN
- Necronator: Dead Wrong
- NecroVisioN: Lost Company
- NecroWorm
- Neighbours back From Hell
- Nelly Cootalot: Spoonbeaks Ahoy! HD
- Neon Space
- Neon Space 2
- Neon Sundown
- Nephise: Ascension
- Neurodeck : Psychological Deckbuilder
- Never Alone Arctic Collection (w/ Foxtales DLC and FREE Soundtrack)
- Neverinth
- Neverout
- Neverwinter Nights: Complete Adventures
- Newt One
- Nexomon: Extinction
- Nigate Tale
- Nimbatus - The Space Drone Constructor
- Nine Parchments
- Nine Witches: Family Disruption
- Nioh 2: The Complete Collection
- No Straight Roads: Encore Edition
- No Time to Relax
- Nomad Survival
- Nongunz: Doppelganger Edition
- Noosphere
- Northgard
- Northmark: Hour of the Wolf
- Nostradamus: The Last Prophecy
- not the robots
- Not Tonight
- Nurse Love Addiction
- Nurse Love Syndrome
- Nusakana
- Obduction
- Obey Me
- Observer: System Redux
- Occultus - Mediterranean Cabal
- Odallus: The Dark Call
- Oddworld: New 'n' Tasty
- One Finger Death Punch 2
- One Hand Clapping
- One More Island
- One Step From Eden
- One Step From Eden (Region locked)
- Orbital Racer
- Organs Please
- Orwell: Ignorance is strength
- Out of Reach: Treasure Royale
- Out of Space
- Overclocked: A History of Violence
- Overcooked! 2 + Too Many Cooks + Surf 'n' Turf pack
- Overlord: Ultimate Evil Collection
- Overpass
- Overruled
- OZYMANDIAS: BRONZE AGE EMPIRE SIM
- Pac-Man Museum +
- Pan'Orama
- Panty Party
- Panzer Corps 2
- Panzer Paladin
- Papo & Yo
- PARADISE LOST
- Parkan 2
- PARTISANS 1941
- Passpartout 2: The Lost Artist
- Path of Giants
- Pathfinder: Wrath of the Righteous
- Patron
- Paw Patrol: On A Roll!
- Paw Paw Paw
- Paws of Coal
- Peaky Blinders: Mastermind
- PER ASPERA
- Perfect
- PGA 2K21
- Pharaonic
- Pixplode
- Pizza Connection 3
- Plague tale
- Planescape: Torment Enhanced Edition
- Planet Alcatraz
- PLANET ZOO
- PlateUp!
- Pogostuck: Rage With Your Friends
- Poker Pretty Girls Battle: Texas Hold'em
- Police Stories
- Poly Island
- Post Void
- Power Rangers: Battle for the Grid
- Prank Call
- Prehistoric Kingdom
- Pretty Girls Mahjong Solitaire
- Pretty Girls Panic!
- Prey
- Primal Carnage: Extinction
- Princess Kaguya: Legend of the Moon Warrior
- Pro Cycling Manager 2020
- Prodeus
- Project CARS - GOTY Edition
- Project Warlock
- Project Wingman (EU)
- PROJECT WINTER
- Propnight
- Pseudoregalia
- PULSAR: The Lost Colony
- qomp
- Quadrilateral Cowboy
- Quake II
- Quake II
- Quantum Break
- Quern - Undying Thoughts
- Radio Commander
- RAGE
- RAILROAD CORPORATION
- Railroad Tycoon 3
- Railroad Tycoon II Platinum
- Railway Empire
- Rain World
- Rayon Riddles - Rise of the Goblin King
- Re: Legend
- REBEL COPS
- Rebel Galaxy
- Rebel Galaxy Outlaw
- Recipe For Disaster
- Red Faction Guerrilla Re-Mars-tered
- Red Faction: Armageddon
- Red Riding Hood - Star Crossed Lovers
- Red Ronin
- RED SOLSTICE 2: SURVIVORS
- Redout Complete Bundle
- Redout: Enhanced Edition
- Redout: Enhanced Edition + DLC pack
- Regular Human Basketball
- REKT! High Octane Stunts
- Relicta
- REMNANT: FROM THE ASHES - COMPLETE EDITION
- Republique
- Rescue Party: Live!
- Resident Evil 0 HD REMASTER
- Resident Evil 5 Gold Edition
- Resident Evil 7 Biohazard
- Resident Evil Revelations
- Resort Boss: Golf
- Retimed
- RETROWAVE
- rFactor 2
- RiME
- Ring of Pain
- Rise of Industry + 2130 DLC
- Rise of the Slime
- Rising Storm 2: Vietnam + 2 DLCs
- Riven: The Sequel to MYST
- River City Girls
- River City Ransom: Underground
- Roarr! Jurassic Edition
- Roboquest
- Robot Squad Simulator 2017
- Rogue : Genesia
- ROGUE HEROES: RUINS OF TASOS
- ROGUE LORDS
- Rogue Stormers
- rollercoaster tycoon 2
- ROTASTIC
- Roundguard
- ROUNDS
- RUNNING WITH RIFLES
- Rustler
- Ryse: Son of Rome
- S.W.I.N.E. HD Remaster
- Sailing Era
- Saint Row
- SAINTS ROW
- Saints Row IV
- Saints Row The Third
- Saints Row: Gat Out of Hell
- Saints Row: The Third Remastered
- Sam and Max Devil's Playhouse
- SAMUDRA
- Sands of Aura
- Sands of Salzaar
- Saturday Morning RPG
- Save Room - Organization Puzzle
- Scarlet Tower
- Scars Above
- Scorn
- SCP: 5K
- SCUM
- SEARCH PARTY: Director's Cut
- Second Extinction
- Secret Government
- Serious Sam 3 Bonus Content DLC, Serious Sam 3: Jewel of the Nile, and Serious Sam 3: BFE
- SEUM speedrunners from hell
- SEUM: Speedrunners from Hell
- Severed Steel
- Shadow Tactics: Aiko's Choice
- Shadowgate
- Shadows Awakening
- SHADOWS: AWAKENING
- Shape of the World
- She Sees Red - Interactive Movie
- Shenmue I & II
- SHENZHEN I/O
- Shift Happens
- Shing!
- Shining Resonance Refrain
- Shoppe Keep 2
- Shoppe Keep 2 - Business and Agriculture RPG Simulation
- Shotgun King: The Final Checkmate
- Sid Meier's Civilization VI
- Sid Meier's Railroads!
- Sifu Deluxe Edition Upgrade Bundle (EPIC)
- Silver Chains
- SimCity 4 Deluxe Edition
- Sinking Island
- SINNER: Sacrifice for Redemption
- Siralim Ultimate
- Size Matters
- Skautfold Chapters 1-4
- Skullgirls 2nd Encore
- Slain: Back from Hell
- Slap City
- Slash It
- Slash It 2
- Slash It Ultimate
- Slay the Spire
- Small World
- Smart Factory Tycoon
- Smile For Me
- Smoke and Sacrifice
- Smoke and Sacrifice
- Smushi Come Home
- Snail bob 2 tiny troubles
- Sniper Elite 3
- Sniper Elite 3 + Season Pass DLC
- Sniper Elite 4 Deluxe Edition
- Sniper Ghost Warrior 3 - Season Pass Edition
- Sniper Ghost Warrior Contracts
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2024.05.29 00:12 Lanzen_Jars A job for a deathworlder [Chapter 169]
[Chapter 1] ; [Previous Chapter] ; [Discord + Wiki] ; [Patreon]
Chapter 169 – A moment of truth. A moment to lie.
Shida exhaled slowly as she flew in a parallel line along the massive, slowly rotating hull of the Sun. The near true-black surface of the enormous ship loomed ominously next to her, tricking her brain into the impression that it was somehow trying to pull her tiny little hunter into it like a black hole or some shadowy portal. Though obviously, that was just a literal trick of the light.
Activating her frontal thrusters yet again to slow the momentum of her flight, she just barely noticed the movement on the hull next to her as something adjusted to the now slowing movement of her cargo. A moment later, a harpoon much like the one she herself had fired into the lump of molten material that had solidified around the still dutifully pinging black box shot against the precious debris, latching onto it and connecting it to the larger ship.
With the press of a button, Shida's own harpoon then automatically shot off its tip before her hunter reeled in the connecting cable as well as the remaining rod. Almost as soon as she was detached, the Sun's harpoon already began to reel the black box lump in as well.
It admittedly took a bit of time and finesse, but this process was still much easier than trying to somehow land with the barely controllable lump of hull-slag still attached to her ship.
Rubbing a hand over one of her hears, Shida released a mild huff before then firing her engines up again as she adjusted her course to fly around the ship and find her way into the dock.
Once the slightly precarious maneuver of flying through the relatively narrow, rotating tunnel that was her entrance was overcome, the feline turned her hunter onto 'life support' mode as she sat back, since she would have to wait for the atmosphere in the dock to be reinstated before she could even think about getting out.
Suddenly, a comm came in for her, making her ears twitch as she listened up.
“Please move your ship to the corner of the dock and stand by, Lieutenant-Commander,” the voice from her radio informed her briefly. “The dock will be needed for the landing of an urgent shuttle. Atmosphere cannot be reinstated before it has landed.”
Blinking slightly, Shida stared at her console for a moment. Shuttle? Why was there shuttle flying around in a situation like this?
Luckily, it didn't even take a full second before her brain fired up again and she quickly reached for the button to activate her own microphone.
“Copy that,” she said before quickly starting her ship up again, just enough so that she could slowly roll it into the dock's corner. Once there, she activated her microphone again. “Standing by,” she announced before leaning back once again.
She released a long exhale as she stared at the wall that was now right in front of her. And as she sat there with nothing to do but to think while she was surrounded by an airless room, she slowly began to feel that something was wrong.
Not with the situation, no. Even if she still wondered why the hell a shuttle was dicking around out there just after an active combat situation, that wasn't what was irking her. Though, admittedly, she also didn't really know what was. Was it something about herself? Not really. She felt fine.
Though, after a few more moments of being alone with her thoughts, it slowly began to hit her. Why did she feel so fine?
Not that she had expected to be totally broken up by a combat situation, even if it was sudden. She was trained for that much, she sure would hope that she wouldn't let it get to her too much. However, while not being too stressed out was one thing...why wasn't she angrier?
The last few times she had so much as heard about an attack, she had been absolutely livid. Blood-boilingly so. And that didn't even come close to how she had felt when she saw the victims of the attack on the detention center...
But now? She was calm. They had just been attacked out of nowhere. She had been dragged into a sudden battle. So many people, both foe and friend, had died today. And she was sad about that. She felt the remorse about the people who had been killed here. She even felt the aftereffects of pulling the trigger herself down in her stomach. But apart from that? Nothing.
What was different now? Where was that fire? And more importantly...was it good or bad that it was so suddenly gone?
Prooobably something to bring up with Dr. Nasution once she got an opportunity to attend her next session, which would probably be quite soon given current circumstances. It had been a while with everything that was going on, but she figured there was at least a good chance that their 'pleasure cruise' would not be continuing after everything that had occurred.
It seemed that the coreworlds were even more hostile ground than they had imagined.
About a quarter of an hour later, the announced shuttle had finally settled down and all hatches were sealed shut while air was slowly funneled back into the room. It took maybe a minute or two more before a specialized sensor in her ship informed her with a glowing light on her console that the surroundings were once again breathable, meaning she could safely open her hatch.
Pressing the corresponding button, the hatch of her ship sprang open, releasing a slight hiss as the seal was broken and air-exchange with the outside took place for the first time since she had closed it.
Once it was open, Shida could already hear some commotion as a large group of people came immediately flooding into the room as soon as it was safe to do so, and once she had climbed out onto the wing of her ship, she could see that they had come bearing large bags as they hurried towards the shuttle, which was currently in the process of lowering its ramp.
Resisting her urge to stand and stare to see what was going on, Shida climbed off the wing in order to go and properly announce her return.
However, almost as soon as her feet made contact with the dock's floor, she suddenly felt how she was almost taken off her feet by another body crashing into hers, startling her so much that her claws were already coming out as her arms raised to meet her sudden tackler – though a combination of a familiar scent and breathing luckily soothed her nerves long before her aware mind could catch up to who had run into her there.
Instead of sinking their claws in, her hand laid flatly down on James' broad back as her arms wrapped around him to return his sudden hug. As she held him, she could feel that he was quite unsteady on his feet, and she subtly supported him to not loose his footing as they embraced for a long moment.
A bit of a purr started up in her chest as she leaned her head against his. She didn't say anything, worrying that it may come off as mockery if she did, but she could feel that he had been worried about her. And although she obviously didn't like making him worry – especially since she knew how much that stung after having to worry about him way too often recently - she still couldn't deny that she always appreciated getting to feel just how much he cared about her so directly, and a warm feeling spread throughout her as her purr intensified.
Though admittedly, she could've done without the firm kiss he pressed onto her cheek after a moment. Still, she knew that it was an important expression of his care to him, and so she simply closed her eye on the kissed side and endured it for a moment before he finally pulled away.
Looking at his reddened face, she could read right off it that he wanted to say something like 'Don't ever do that again' or anything in that vein, but obviously he also knew that she was just doing her duty, and so he held his tongue.
His mouth opened a bit, presumably to say something else, however the chaotic and from this distance slightly incoherent shouting of the group that had rushed in earlier now meeting with the crew of the shuttle interrupted him, catching both of their attentions as they looked over.
As they did, Shida's eyes widened slightly once she realized what the chaotic scene she was looking at there really was. A stretcher carrying Admiral Krieger was wheeled down the shuttle's ramp, surrounded by medics and doctors working on her on all sides.
Her skin was a ghostly white, far more so than even her usual pale complexion, and fully on display as the remains of her uniform were under her in tattered, cut-open rags, leaving her almost entirely exposed except for her most private area and her right leg, which had been covered with a white sheet. Every other inch of her skin seemingly had to remain free as the medical personnel worked on it from all angles; sticking her with needles or attaching cables, tubes and electrodes to her as she was rolled along. Two blood bags were already dripping fresh life into her at that point, and by the look of things, a third one was soon to follow.
Still, the almost body-horror-esque sight of the doctors trying to preserve her life was by far not the most gruesome one the scene offered. That honor belonged to her uncovered left leg. Or at least...what was left of it...
Shida's ear twitched as her concentration on the scene was briefly interrupted by a soft voice speaking right next to her.
“Mama...” James mumbled aghast, causing Shida's eyes to widen slightly.
It was one of the few words from his native language that the feline actually knew. “Mom”. And hearing it out of James' mouth was an almost bizarre experience. James never called his mother mom or any similar term of endearment. In fact he made it a point not to.
Granted, in this case, it was unlikely that he had consciously made the choice to do it in this case, however the sheer fact that it would slip out of him like this spoke volumes of just how deeply the shock of seeing her in that state reached.
Not that Shida didn't understand, of course. Familial bonds or not, the Admiral was...well, of course they both knew that she wasn't untouchable by any measure. Far from it. She was just a person like anybody else in the end.
However, knowing that she could get hurt and actually seeing it were two very different things, apparently.
In the corner of her vision, she noticed how James suddenly began to move in the direction of the ongoing rescue, and she quickly jolted forwards to stop him, wrapping her arm around him firmly as she held him back from getting in the way of anything.
Luckily, apart from a brief push that only lasted for as long as it took him to realize that he had been stopped, he didn't resist her as she restrained him from approaching any further, and so the both of them just watched as the stretcher was rolled along and ultimately out of the dock.
“That was meant for me...” James mumbled, clearly thinking aloud as he kept staring at the door even after it had closed again.
Immediately, Shida pulled him in firmer, side-hugging him as she pressed her body up to his.
“She wouldn't have traded places with you if you tried to force her,” she assured him while pushing her face against his shoulder. She knew that the relationship of those two was rocky to say the least, however she still knew that much to be true. Whether she was the motherly type or not, if anything, the Admiral was just as stubborn as James was, especially when it came to duty.
James stood frozen for a bit, seemingly not exactly knowing what to do with his feelings in his current state. Shida could only imagine how much ethanol was still flowing through his veins at that time, mixed with a cocktail of all kinds of different hormones and endorphins. With all of this added back-and-forth stress, she couldn't blame him for struggling to hold onto a single thought at that time.
“Oh, James!” a new voice suddenly joined the fray, whipping both of their attentions around yet again as even more bodies emerged from the shuttle, having presumably stood back to make room while the rescue efforts were ongoing.
But now that the coast was clear, so to speak, two familiar large forms came lumbering down the shuttle's ramp.
Moar and Congloarch looked...rattled...to say the least. With Moar, it was understandable. She probably didn't have all too much experience of standing right next to a dying person as every thinkable thing was done to them to keep them alive, so Shida wouldn't have thought twice about it had it just been her.
However, the tonamstrosite was a...different story. His four eyes didn't scan the room or focus on different things at all. All four of them were pointed straight ahead with only very loose seeming focus on the people he was approaching as he walked.
His mouth hung slightly open, and he seemed to push his tongue out just a little bit while the fleshy muscle twitched up in place before settling down again, over and over, making it appear almost as if he was subtly retching.
James' stormy mind seemed to immediately latch onto the the possibility to focus on anything and went right along with a wave of his usual compassion as his eyes fell onto the to giants. This time, Shida didn't hold him back as he hurried in their direction.
“What in chaos' name happened?” he asked once he was just a few steps away from them, though even in his now focused and concerned state you could clearly tell from his gait that he wasn't quite all there.
“Oh James...” Moar repeated, struggling to speak as she shuddered in place where she stood, both of her clawed hands firmly hooked into her long fur as if clinging on for dear life.
Releasing a deep groan, Congloarch shook himself so heavily that a grinding sound came from some of the plates along his body.
“There was an attack,” the large reptile then said the quite obvious before shaking again. “There was...an invasion-” he kept describing before pausing abruptly, turning his head away as his tongue pushed itself up again, causing him to clearly struggle to suppress whatever urge overcame him at that moment.
Shida's ears and tail sank deeply as she watched those two. She could only imagine what could've occurred to have even Congloarch so broken up. And she could see it on James' face that his heart sank just as much, even if less outwards signs clearly showed it.
Slowly, Shida began to walk up to Moar at an even pace. As she did so, she gently nudged James in the direction of the other giant while passing him, knowing that he had the better relationship to the tonamstrosite out of the two of them.
Taking the hint without issue, James walked up to the enormous reptile and placed his hand on the highest part of the man he could reach while Shida leaned up against Moar's plushy leg comfortingly.
“It's alright,” James then said softly, patting his hand against Congloarch's armored skin gently while also leaning his face against the side of the giant's body. “You don't have to talk about it right now. You can take some time.”
The reactions of the two giants were very different, but at the same time equally appreciative of the soothing contact.
Moar leaned down as one of her hands unclenched from her fur to reach for Shida, reciprocating the gentle touch through an innate social drive. Seemingly on instinct, her hand went right for Shida's hair, seemingly seeking the contact with fur since that is what another rafulite would provide, and so the old lady simply petted through Shida's hair in gentle strokes while the feline pressed up against her.
Meanwhile, Congloarch seemed to simply relax in place as James leaned against him, making no effort to initiate any form of contact himself as his eyes slowly closed.
It even went so far that it seemed like he needed to put in a conscious effort to not lay down right then and there, which would've probably been inappropriate in the middle of a dock. In fact, all of this was probably inappropriate for this place, but sometimes what had to be done had to be done.
Still, with James being only somewhat in-commission right now, Shida eventually felt it to be her duty to coax everyone out of the dock once she felt that things had calmed down enough to move so they could continue this at a calmer, more private location, where the two giants could truly focus on processing everything that had happened.
–
A gentle humming filled the air, stirring her awake as light uncomfortably shone through her twitching lids while she struggled back and forth between a conscious and unconscious state.
Though once she finally pushed herself far enough into awareness to gain control over the motion and slowly forced her eyes fully open, even if she still had to squint heavily against the light from above, she glanced around through her blurry vision, instinctively searching for the source of the increasingly familiar sound of the hummed song.
She recognized the melody. It was the 'Ode to strange suns', a very old and very famous song that first emerged back in the early days of Earth's interstellar travel, when traversing light-years to reach another star-system was still a daunting endeavor. It was often sung by those in the primitive ships, often called 'tubes', to give them hope during their bleak journey. A melancholic song about giving up your life just to see what's out there – and one day push your people so far beyond what they had once been.
So far, they hadn't quite reached the lofty goal that the song set for humanity, since it spoke of mapping every star and finding eternity too short and infinity too small for their ambitions. According to the song, the day would come when 'no more strange suns rise'. What an idea that was...
Still, even more so than the song itself, she recognized the soft voice that was humming it, and her heart lifted at the implications of hearing it. She felt soft sheets rustling underneath her head as she slowly turned her face towards the sound, and the corners of her lips slowly lifted into a smile as her eyes, which were gently tearing from the harsh light biting into them so suddenly, fell onto the scene before her.
Nia sat slightly leaned against the headrest of her bed with her eyes closed, the room's white light gently playing over her dark yet soft features as she turned her face in the Admiral's direction while softly swaying her head to the rhythm of her humming, not moving it more than a centimeter with each tilt so her gentle dance wouldn't interfere too much with the work of James' hands. He sat behind her with both hands behind her back, gently holding her hair as he weaved it into long braids with practiced motions. There was a clear 'weakness' to Nia's movements, and the way she sat strongly indicated that she likely lacked the strength to completely hold herself up on her own.
And yet despite that, her humming was cheerful and content as she had her hair braided by her brother. She seemed...at peace.
After simply observing the scene for a few long moments, feeling like she could get lost in the sight if she wasn't careful, Admiral Krieger then tried to push herself up a bit, however the attempt was short-lived as a searing pain shot through her right shoulder as soon as she put any pressure onto that side of her body, forcing her to flop back down almost immediately. And as soon as she did, the pain quickly dissipated into a mellow numbness that was all too familiar to her.
She was on some strong painkillers, she could tell. Therefore, if it still hurt like that when she attempted to move, moving was probably a bad idea. Not that she couldn't have borne the pain if it was necessary, however the sight of her children like that told her that it very clearly wasn't. Whatever other challenges and battles the future may have had in store for them, this was a moment of peace, and she should use it for her recovery while she still could.
Meanwhile, her movement and brief hiss of pain had naturally not gone unnoticed. Once her eyes were no longer closed from the brief jolt of pain, she saw that Nia's eyes had now also opened. Her humming had stopped as the sweet girl's face lit up upon noticing that the Admiral was truly awake and had not just shifted around in her sleep.
“James!” she exclaimed, trying to move so suddenly that she accidentally pulled on her own hair that was still firmly in her brother's grasp, before he could react and adjust to her movements. Uncaring about the brief discomfort that surely caused, Nia excitedly lifted her hand to point at the Admiral, however James already had a knowing look on his face.
“I saw,” he replied, clearly far less focused on the braiding process than his demeanor would indicate from the outside. He quickly finished up the in-process braid between his fingers and fixated it with a small, golden, tube-shaped clasp before letting go of Nia's hair, thus allowing her to freely move her head around again.
Nia then looked over at her while James slowly stood up and moved to the corner of the room.
“How are you feeling, Sophia?” Nia asked in a gentle tone that did nothing to hide her happiness, her eyes gleaming slightly in the light as tears began to well up within them.
The Admiral released a long exhale as she settled into the sheets, though her eyes never left Nia's face – apart from a very brief moment of them following James to see where he was going. Nia looked slightly messy with her hair half-braided and the light-blue gown she wore all crumpled up, however just like her earlier humming, that messiness had a certain peace to it that allowed the Admiral to relax.
“Just how I look, I suspect,” she replied, the smile on her face returning. “I'm glad to see you awake again.”
“Hey, that's my line!” Nia jokingly complained with a mild chuckle that audibly got very close to shifting into a soft sob at one point.
At this point, James had returned from the corner of the room, walking up to the side of Nia's bed opposite to the one he had been sitting at previously. And with him, he had brought a large wheelchair.
Briefly, he turned his head towards his mother, the look on his face rather unreadable. For a moment, his mouth twitched, and it seemed like he wanted to say something. However ultimately, he pulled his gaze away again before anything was said.
Without complaint, Nia allowed her brother to lift her out of the bed and into the wheelchair, before he slowly pushed her over to the side of the Admiral's bed.
Almost immediately once she was within reach, Nia's hand found hers, holding it gently while James was once again on the move, this time towards a bedside-drawer that stood in between both of their beds.
Opening it, he briefly rummaged through it before pulling out an arrangement of small items, with which he then sat down next to the Admiral as well.
Leaning down, he gently reached for her face in a gesture that could've been mistaken for tenderness, had his fingers not reached to pull her lids open a bit with gentle force right before he shone a bright light directly into her eyes. Despite the uncomfortable nature of the action, Admiral Krieger didn't resist it in any way, physically or otherwise.
After he had ensured her pupils worked properly, James then gently grabbed her by her chin and moved her face around so that she looked straight 'ahead', which in this case meant right up to the ceiling while he got up a bit to loom over her.
“Aaaaaah,” he then ordered while holding a clear, plastic tongue-suppressor close to her mouth.
Following the order without hesitation, the Admiral opened her mouth widely, though she forewent the actual saying of 'aaah' in the process. Soon enough, her tongue was uncomfortably pushed down by the plastic item while she could see some light leaking out of her mouth in the corner of her vision.
After a brief moment of inspection, the pressure was already relieved and she could close her mouth again as James moved away from her, checking some of the monitors of devices that were attached to his mother in various ways.
The Admiral couldn't help but gently chuckle at the professionalism he clearly very deliberately employed as he dealt with her waking up. It was a nice act, however, she was smart enough to know that, since he didn't call anyone in to do it, he likely had asked to conduct these precautionary examinations himself instead of calling a doctor in for it, likely promising to call in someone more professional than himself should he find anything actually worrying.
But, based on his reactions, it seemed like everything was in working order. At least the vitals she could see on the monitors herself certainly were. Not exactly 'healthy', of course, but also not directly concerning for someone who had just gone through the wringer like she had.
Or, well...she didn't quite know how 'just' it had been. She was admittedly a bit too groggy to fully remember the exact date and time during which the attack leaving her injured had taken place, which meant even the clock on the wall was of very little help with determining just how long she had been out for.
“Do you feel anything strange?” James asked her, pulling her out of her thoughts. “Any pain? Nausea? Discomfort?”
Krieger shook her head.
“Nothing, apart from being high as a kite,” she replied before briefly glancing down at herself. Her body was almost completely covered by a white sheet, so she couldn't exactly see anything. However, she knew what was underneath. “Though I'm sure my leg would be in a lot of pain if I could actually feel it.”
In the corner of her vision, she both saw and felt Nia flinch as she was still holding her hand, her face darkening a little.
James' expression also seemed to turn more serious after her jokingly said words, betraying his usually not horrible pokerface.
Slowly, she released a long breath.
“It's gone, isn't it?” she suspected immediately. Not surprising after the state her leg had been in when she last saw it.
Nia's face just turned even more glum at that, however James sighed and nodded.
“Most of it, yes,” he replied honestly, knowing her well enough to cut any sort of bullshit. “Though you will be glad to hear that your usual 'precautions' worked without a hitch. Your body accepted the prosthesis and you should be able to walk again almost immediately.”
She smiled.
“I always told you, it pays to be prepared,” she said, lifting her unoccupied arm with a finger playfully raised in lecture. Though then, she moved her gaze over to Nia, reaching her already raised arm over to Nia's head and pulling her in a bit closer before gently caressing her cheek. “Come on, why the frown?” she asked, giving a gentle smile. “You heard what he said, I'll be good as new.”
A returning smile fought itself through Nia's tears at the caress, and she nodded meekly – before then suddenly throwing herself forwards, out of the wheelchair and onto the Admiral in a brazen embrace.
A sharp pain once again shot through the Admiral's shoulder as another body suddenly pressed down onto hers, however this time she did not care a single bit as she moved her arms around her daughter and gently petted along her back while Nia clearly did her absolute best to suppress the quiet sobs leaving her. Meanwhile James stood next to it all with a stoic expression, only his eyes betraying the obvious compassion he felt for his sister's happiness.
Once the embrace was enjoyed and a few soft words were exchanged, he aided Nia in getting back into the wheelchair wordlessly.
And the Admiral didn't need him to say anything. The mere fact that he had decided to be here told her more than enough – even if he would likely say that he was here to visit Nia when he would be asked about it.
A few moments later, the door to the room opened, with two new people entering in a visible hurry. Though, despite their haste, both Tuya and Shida froze when they fully processed the scene they had barged into, with neither of them seemingly knowing if they wanted to proceed or not.
Taking the decision off them, the Admiral lifted her hand and waved them closer.
“Come in,” she said invitingly, not at all opposed to their presence here. Not for nothing, she was more than happy with the partners that her children had found for themselves. She could hardly have wished for better ones.
Still seeming a bit hesitant, the First-Lieutenant and Lieutenant-Commander then continued their motion, even if much slower now.
James and Nia both had pretty unreadable expressions on their faces at this point as they watched their respective partners approach. They all exchanged a long gaze with each other, which clearly told her children something that she wasn't quite privy to yet.
James was finally the one to break the silence.
“What brilliant timing,” he sighed a bit as he turned around, quickly grabbing a remote from a nearby nightstand. With it, he turned up the volume of a running but up until now muted screen that the Admiral had only been tangentially aware of so far.
Though now that everyone's attention seemed to be pulled towards it, she didn't need to be a genius to realize that something important was being broadcast there. And so she got quiet and listened, her professional seriousness returning as he fought through her slightly hazy state to not miss a detail, especially so as she saw just who the cameras were pointed towards.
Leaving her enormous head to hang slightly, Apojinorana Audoxya Tua, High-Matriarch of the zodiatos and current Acting-Leader-Supreme of the G.C.S. had taken the stage behind what had to be a house-sized podium, even if it didn't appear like it on screen.
The Admiral suppressed any feelings she had towards that vile woman as she concentrated on listening to her words.
They had seemingly missed the beginning of the conference they were not tuning into, so hopefully they hadn't missed anything important.
“...firm the attack. One of the current Nahfmir-Durrehefren, previously known as Melvolhorron, used his command over several of our ships and the loyalty of crews that had been radicalized by the ongoing galactic tensions -both zodiatos and coluyvoree- to mount the attack. No outside influence on his actions from any third-party outside of the zodiatos territories has been indicated during the investigations. The black box that was discovered by the human forces and handed over to galactic investigations in full accordance to communal law and without any resistance brought some additional light to his motivations. Among the usual logs and data you would expect to find, it also contained a seemingly deliberately saved...letter of devotion to...none other than my own person. It seems that this...tragic event turned heinous crime was something that he saw as his best chance to advance his position to that of the true Durrehefren. He seemed to believe that my devotion and favor could be gained through a decisive strike against the humans, whom he believed I hated deeply – along with all other deathworlders, it appears. It also appears that he believed this hate would go far enough that I would approve of any methods to achieve this strike against them – even an attack on not only another coreworld, but one of our oldest and most loyal allies. It's-” she cut of briefly, releasing a distressed trumpeting sound before reaching her trunk up to run its ends over her many dark eyes. “It is, of course, hard for me. Not only to have such a crime committed ostensibly in my name, but also that this seems to be an image that I have imprinted onto my people. An image of hate and discord that has radicalized them to the point that they would stoop to such levels simply to see the 'opposition' suffer. And while it is no secret that the humans have been at odds with me, I would never approve of such a heinous attack, not only because...friends of mine...were lost in it, too. And I am not free of blame. I see now that I was so focused on sternly defending us from the accusations posed against us, that I entirely forgot to also show the compassion that is so necessary at a time like this. And I want to apologize for this. Deeply. Even as the attack was committed by a blinded individual, the zodiatos will take full responsibility for it. We are willing to pay any required reparations to each of the injured parties involved, and we deeply wish that our ties we have to those harmed can be mended, be they old or new, strong or tattered. We will gladly welcome any diplomatic outreach from the injured parties as well as all others who are concerned in hopes to not only aid in the recovery of our alliances, but also in the healing of our very own souls as we will take any effort we can to move away from the hate that has caused this tragedy. Our people will not become one of violence and terror, that I swear by all three of my names. And I hope that all others follow that example, so that this tragic event may become a part of our history that will never be repeated. Now more than ever, we need to remind ourselves of the values that this galaxy was built upon. I thank each and every one of you for your attention. Success to you. Prosperity for all. Unity in the community.”
submitted by Lanzen_Jars to HFY [link] [comments]
Chapter 169 – A moment of truth. A moment to lie.
Shida exhaled slowly as she flew in a parallel line along the massive, slowly rotating hull of the Sun. The near true-black surface of the enormous ship loomed ominously next to her, tricking her brain into the impression that it was somehow trying to pull her tiny little hunter into it like a black hole or some shadowy portal. Though obviously, that was just a literal trick of the light.
Activating her frontal thrusters yet again to slow the momentum of her flight, she just barely noticed the movement on the hull next to her as something adjusted to the now slowing movement of her cargo. A moment later, a harpoon much like the one she herself had fired into the lump of molten material that had solidified around the still dutifully pinging black box shot against the precious debris, latching onto it and connecting it to the larger ship.
With the press of a button, Shida's own harpoon then automatically shot off its tip before her hunter reeled in the connecting cable as well as the remaining rod. Almost as soon as she was detached, the Sun's harpoon already began to reel the black box lump in as well.
It admittedly took a bit of time and finesse, but this process was still much easier than trying to somehow land with the barely controllable lump of hull-slag still attached to her ship.
Rubbing a hand over one of her hears, Shida released a mild huff before then firing her engines up again as she adjusted her course to fly around the ship and find her way into the dock.
Once the slightly precarious maneuver of flying through the relatively narrow, rotating tunnel that was her entrance was overcome, the feline turned her hunter onto 'life support' mode as she sat back, since she would have to wait for the atmosphere in the dock to be reinstated before she could even think about getting out.
Suddenly, a comm came in for her, making her ears twitch as she listened up.
“Please move your ship to the corner of the dock and stand by, Lieutenant-Commander,” the voice from her radio informed her briefly. “The dock will be needed for the landing of an urgent shuttle. Atmosphere cannot be reinstated before it has landed.”
Blinking slightly, Shida stared at her console for a moment. Shuttle? Why was there shuttle flying around in a situation like this?
Luckily, it didn't even take a full second before her brain fired up again and she quickly reached for the button to activate her own microphone.
“Copy that,” she said before quickly starting her ship up again, just enough so that she could slowly roll it into the dock's corner. Once there, she activated her microphone again. “Standing by,” she announced before leaning back once again.
She released a long exhale as she stared at the wall that was now right in front of her. And as she sat there with nothing to do but to think while she was surrounded by an airless room, she slowly began to feel that something was wrong.
Not with the situation, no. Even if she still wondered why the hell a shuttle was dicking around out there just after an active combat situation, that wasn't what was irking her. Though, admittedly, she also didn't really know what was. Was it something about herself? Not really. She felt fine.
Though, after a few more moments of being alone with her thoughts, it slowly began to hit her. Why did she feel so fine?
Not that she had expected to be totally broken up by a combat situation, even if it was sudden. She was trained for that much, she sure would hope that she wouldn't let it get to her too much. However, while not being too stressed out was one thing...why wasn't she angrier?
The last few times she had so much as heard about an attack, she had been absolutely livid. Blood-boilingly so. And that didn't even come close to how she had felt when she saw the victims of the attack on the detention center...
But now? She was calm. They had just been attacked out of nowhere. She had been dragged into a sudden battle. So many people, both foe and friend, had died today. And she was sad about that. She felt the remorse about the people who had been killed here. She even felt the aftereffects of pulling the trigger herself down in her stomach. But apart from that? Nothing.
What was different now? Where was that fire? And more importantly...was it good or bad that it was so suddenly gone?
Prooobably something to bring up with Dr. Nasution once she got an opportunity to attend her next session, which would probably be quite soon given current circumstances. It had been a while with everything that was going on, but she figured there was at least a good chance that their 'pleasure cruise' would not be continuing after everything that had occurred.
It seemed that the coreworlds were even more hostile ground than they had imagined.
About a quarter of an hour later, the announced shuttle had finally settled down and all hatches were sealed shut while air was slowly funneled back into the room. It took maybe a minute or two more before a specialized sensor in her ship informed her with a glowing light on her console that the surroundings were once again breathable, meaning she could safely open her hatch.
Pressing the corresponding button, the hatch of her ship sprang open, releasing a slight hiss as the seal was broken and air-exchange with the outside took place for the first time since she had closed it.
Once it was open, Shida could already hear some commotion as a large group of people came immediately flooding into the room as soon as it was safe to do so, and once she had climbed out onto the wing of her ship, she could see that they had come bearing large bags as they hurried towards the shuttle, which was currently in the process of lowering its ramp.
Resisting her urge to stand and stare to see what was going on, Shida climbed off the wing in order to go and properly announce her return.
However, almost as soon as her feet made contact with the dock's floor, she suddenly felt how she was almost taken off her feet by another body crashing into hers, startling her so much that her claws were already coming out as her arms raised to meet her sudden tackler – though a combination of a familiar scent and breathing luckily soothed her nerves long before her aware mind could catch up to who had run into her there.
Instead of sinking their claws in, her hand laid flatly down on James' broad back as her arms wrapped around him to return his sudden hug. As she held him, she could feel that he was quite unsteady on his feet, and she subtly supported him to not loose his footing as they embraced for a long moment.
A bit of a purr started up in her chest as she leaned her head against his. She didn't say anything, worrying that it may come off as mockery if she did, but she could feel that he had been worried about her. And although she obviously didn't like making him worry – especially since she knew how much that stung after having to worry about him way too often recently - she still couldn't deny that she always appreciated getting to feel just how much he cared about her so directly, and a warm feeling spread throughout her as her purr intensified.
Though admittedly, she could've done without the firm kiss he pressed onto her cheek after a moment. Still, she knew that it was an important expression of his care to him, and so she simply closed her eye on the kissed side and endured it for a moment before he finally pulled away.
Looking at his reddened face, she could read right off it that he wanted to say something like 'Don't ever do that again' or anything in that vein, but obviously he also knew that she was just doing her duty, and so he held his tongue.
His mouth opened a bit, presumably to say something else, however the chaotic and from this distance slightly incoherent shouting of the group that had rushed in earlier now meeting with the crew of the shuttle interrupted him, catching both of their attentions as they looked over.
As they did, Shida's eyes widened slightly once she realized what the chaotic scene she was looking at there really was. A stretcher carrying Admiral Krieger was wheeled down the shuttle's ramp, surrounded by medics and doctors working on her on all sides.
Her skin was a ghostly white, far more so than even her usual pale complexion, and fully on display as the remains of her uniform were under her in tattered, cut-open rags, leaving her almost entirely exposed except for her most private area and her right leg, which had been covered with a white sheet. Every other inch of her skin seemingly had to remain free as the medical personnel worked on it from all angles; sticking her with needles or attaching cables, tubes and electrodes to her as she was rolled along. Two blood bags were already dripping fresh life into her at that point, and by the look of things, a third one was soon to follow.
Still, the almost body-horror-esque sight of the doctors trying to preserve her life was by far not the most gruesome one the scene offered. That honor belonged to her uncovered left leg. Or at least...what was left of it...
Shida's ear twitched as her concentration on the scene was briefly interrupted by a soft voice speaking right next to her.
“Mama...” James mumbled aghast, causing Shida's eyes to widen slightly.
It was one of the few words from his native language that the feline actually knew. “Mom”. And hearing it out of James' mouth was an almost bizarre experience. James never called his mother mom or any similar term of endearment. In fact he made it a point not to.
Granted, in this case, it was unlikely that he had consciously made the choice to do it in this case, however the sheer fact that it would slip out of him like this spoke volumes of just how deeply the shock of seeing her in that state reached.
Not that Shida didn't understand, of course. Familial bonds or not, the Admiral was...well, of course they both knew that she wasn't untouchable by any measure. Far from it. She was just a person like anybody else in the end.
However, knowing that she could get hurt and actually seeing it were two very different things, apparently.
In the corner of her vision, she noticed how James suddenly began to move in the direction of the ongoing rescue, and she quickly jolted forwards to stop him, wrapping her arm around him firmly as she held him back from getting in the way of anything.
Luckily, apart from a brief push that only lasted for as long as it took him to realize that he had been stopped, he didn't resist her as she restrained him from approaching any further, and so the both of them just watched as the stretcher was rolled along and ultimately out of the dock.
“That was meant for me...” James mumbled, clearly thinking aloud as he kept staring at the door even after it had closed again.
Immediately, Shida pulled him in firmer, side-hugging him as she pressed her body up to his.
“She wouldn't have traded places with you if you tried to force her,” she assured him while pushing her face against his shoulder. She knew that the relationship of those two was rocky to say the least, however she still knew that much to be true. Whether she was the motherly type or not, if anything, the Admiral was just as stubborn as James was, especially when it came to duty.
James stood frozen for a bit, seemingly not exactly knowing what to do with his feelings in his current state. Shida could only imagine how much ethanol was still flowing through his veins at that time, mixed with a cocktail of all kinds of different hormones and endorphins. With all of this added back-and-forth stress, she couldn't blame him for struggling to hold onto a single thought at that time.
“Oh, James!” a new voice suddenly joined the fray, whipping both of their attentions around yet again as even more bodies emerged from the shuttle, having presumably stood back to make room while the rescue efforts were ongoing.
But now that the coast was clear, so to speak, two familiar large forms came lumbering down the shuttle's ramp.
Moar and Congloarch looked...rattled...to say the least. With Moar, it was understandable. She probably didn't have all too much experience of standing right next to a dying person as every thinkable thing was done to them to keep them alive, so Shida wouldn't have thought twice about it had it just been her.
However, the tonamstrosite was a...different story. His four eyes didn't scan the room or focus on different things at all. All four of them were pointed straight ahead with only very loose seeming focus on the people he was approaching as he walked.
His mouth hung slightly open, and he seemed to push his tongue out just a little bit while the fleshy muscle twitched up in place before settling down again, over and over, making it appear almost as if he was subtly retching.
James' stormy mind seemed to immediately latch onto the the possibility to focus on anything and went right along with a wave of his usual compassion as his eyes fell onto the to giants. This time, Shida didn't hold him back as he hurried in their direction.
“What in chaos' name happened?” he asked once he was just a few steps away from them, though even in his now focused and concerned state you could clearly tell from his gait that he wasn't quite all there.
“Oh James...” Moar repeated, struggling to speak as she shuddered in place where she stood, both of her clawed hands firmly hooked into her long fur as if clinging on for dear life.
Releasing a deep groan, Congloarch shook himself so heavily that a grinding sound came from some of the plates along his body.
“There was an attack,” the large reptile then said the quite obvious before shaking again. “There was...an invasion-” he kept describing before pausing abruptly, turning his head away as his tongue pushed itself up again, causing him to clearly struggle to suppress whatever urge overcame him at that moment.
Shida's ears and tail sank deeply as she watched those two. She could only imagine what could've occurred to have even Congloarch so broken up. And she could see it on James' face that his heart sank just as much, even if less outwards signs clearly showed it.
Slowly, Shida began to walk up to Moar at an even pace. As she did so, she gently nudged James in the direction of the other giant while passing him, knowing that he had the better relationship to the tonamstrosite out of the two of them.
Taking the hint without issue, James walked up to the enormous reptile and placed his hand on the highest part of the man he could reach while Shida leaned up against Moar's plushy leg comfortingly.
“It's alright,” James then said softly, patting his hand against Congloarch's armored skin gently while also leaning his face against the side of the giant's body. “You don't have to talk about it right now. You can take some time.”
The reactions of the two giants were very different, but at the same time equally appreciative of the soothing contact.
Moar leaned down as one of her hands unclenched from her fur to reach for Shida, reciprocating the gentle touch through an innate social drive. Seemingly on instinct, her hand went right for Shida's hair, seemingly seeking the contact with fur since that is what another rafulite would provide, and so the old lady simply petted through Shida's hair in gentle strokes while the feline pressed up against her.
Meanwhile, Congloarch seemed to simply relax in place as James leaned against him, making no effort to initiate any form of contact himself as his eyes slowly closed.
It even went so far that it seemed like he needed to put in a conscious effort to not lay down right then and there, which would've probably been inappropriate in the middle of a dock. In fact, all of this was probably inappropriate for this place, but sometimes what had to be done had to be done.
Still, with James being only somewhat in-commission right now, Shida eventually felt it to be her duty to coax everyone out of the dock once she felt that things had calmed down enough to move so they could continue this at a calmer, more private location, where the two giants could truly focus on processing everything that had happened.
–
A gentle humming filled the air, stirring her awake as light uncomfortably shone through her twitching lids while she struggled back and forth between a conscious and unconscious state.
Though once she finally pushed herself far enough into awareness to gain control over the motion and slowly forced her eyes fully open, even if she still had to squint heavily against the light from above, she glanced around through her blurry vision, instinctively searching for the source of the increasingly familiar sound of the hummed song.
She recognized the melody. It was the 'Ode to strange suns', a very old and very famous song that first emerged back in the early days of Earth's interstellar travel, when traversing light-years to reach another star-system was still a daunting endeavor. It was often sung by those in the primitive ships, often called 'tubes', to give them hope during their bleak journey. A melancholic song about giving up your life just to see what's out there – and one day push your people so far beyond what they had once been.
So far, they hadn't quite reached the lofty goal that the song set for humanity, since it spoke of mapping every star and finding eternity too short and infinity too small for their ambitions. According to the song, the day would come when 'no more strange suns rise'. What an idea that was...
Still, even more so than the song itself, she recognized the soft voice that was humming it, and her heart lifted at the implications of hearing it. She felt soft sheets rustling underneath her head as she slowly turned her face towards the sound, and the corners of her lips slowly lifted into a smile as her eyes, which were gently tearing from the harsh light biting into them so suddenly, fell onto the scene before her.
Nia sat slightly leaned against the headrest of her bed with her eyes closed, the room's white light gently playing over her dark yet soft features as she turned her face in the Admiral's direction while softly swaying her head to the rhythm of her humming, not moving it more than a centimeter with each tilt so her gentle dance wouldn't interfere too much with the work of James' hands. He sat behind her with both hands behind her back, gently holding her hair as he weaved it into long braids with practiced motions. There was a clear 'weakness' to Nia's movements, and the way she sat strongly indicated that she likely lacked the strength to completely hold herself up on her own.
And yet despite that, her humming was cheerful and content as she had her hair braided by her brother. She seemed...at peace.
After simply observing the scene for a few long moments, feeling like she could get lost in the sight if she wasn't careful, Admiral Krieger then tried to push herself up a bit, however the attempt was short-lived as a searing pain shot through her right shoulder as soon as she put any pressure onto that side of her body, forcing her to flop back down almost immediately. And as soon as she did, the pain quickly dissipated into a mellow numbness that was all too familiar to her.
She was on some strong painkillers, she could tell. Therefore, if it still hurt like that when she attempted to move, moving was probably a bad idea. Not that she couldn't have borne the pain if it was necessary, however the sight of her children like that told her that it very clearly wasn't. Whatever other challenges and battles the future may have had in store for them, this was a moment of peace, and she should use it for her recovery while she still could.
Meanwhile, her movement and brief hiss of pain had naturally not gone unnoticed. Once her eyes were no longer closed from the brief jolt of pain, she saw that Nia's eyes had now also opened. Her humming had stopped as the sweet girl's face lit up upon noticing that the Admiral was truly awake and had not just shifted around in her sleep.
“James!” she exclaimed, trying to move so suddenly that she accidentally pulled on her own hair that was still firmly in her brother's grasp, before he could react and adjust to her movements. Uncaring about the brief discomfort that surely caused, Nia excitedly lifted her hand to point at the Admiral, however James already had a knowing look on his face.
“I saw,” he replied, clearly far less focused on the braiding process than his demeanor would indicate from the outside. He quickly finished up the in-process braid between his fingers and fixated it with a small, golden, tube-shaped clasp before letting go of Nia's hair, thus allowing her to freely move her head around again.
Nia then looked over at her while James slowly stood up and moved to the corner of the room.
“How are you feeling, Sophia?” Nia asked in a gentle tone that did nothing to hide her happiness, her eyes gleaming slightly in the light as tears began to well up within them.
The Admiral released a long exhale as she settled into the sheets, though her eyes never left Nia's face – apart from a very brief moment of them following James to see where he was going. Nia looked slightly messy with her hair half-braided and the light-blue gown she wore all crumpled up, however just like her earlier humming, that messiness had a certain peace to it that allowed the Admiral to relax.
“Just how I look, I suspect,” she replied, the smile on her face returning. “I'm glad to see you awake again.”
“Hey, that's my line!” Nia jokingly complained with a mild chuckle that audibly got very close to shifting into a soft sob at one point.
At this point, James had returned from the corner of the room, walking up to the side of Nia's bed opposite to the one he had been sitting at previously. And with him, he had brought a large wheelchair.
Briefly, he turned his head towards his mother, the look on his face rather unreadable. For a moment, his mouth twitched, and it seemed like he wanted to say something. However ultimately, he pulled his gaze away again before anything was said.
Without complaint, Nia allowed her brother to lift her out of the bed and into the wheelchair, before he slowly pushed her over to the side of the Admiral's bed.
Almost immediately once she was within reach, Nia's hand found hers, holding it gently while James was once again on the move, this time towards a bedside-drawer that stood in between both of their beds.
Opening it, he briefly rummaged through it before pulling out an arrangement of small items, with which he then sat down next to the Admiral as well.
Leaning down, he gently reached for her face in a gesture that could've been mistaken for tenderness, had his fingers not reached to pull her lids open a bit with gentle force right before he shone a bright light directly into her eyes. Despite the uncomfortable nature of the action, Admiral Krieger didn't resist it in any way, physically or otherwise.
After he had ensured her pupils worked properly, James then gently grabbed her by her chin and moved her face around so that she looked straight 'ahead', which in this case meant right up to the ceiling while he got up a bit to loom over her.
“Aaaaaah,” he then ordered while holding a clear, plastic tongue-suppressor close to her mouth.
Following the order without hesitation, the Admiral opened her mouth widely, though she forewent the actual saying of 'aaah' in the process. Soon enough, her tongue was uncomfortably pushed down by the plastic item while she could see some light leaking out of her mouth in the corner of her vision.
After a brief moment of inspection, the pressure was already relieved and she could close her mouth again as James moved away from her, checking some of the monitors of devices that were attached to his mother in various ways.
The Admiral couldn't help but gently chuckle at the professionalism he clearly very deliberately employed as he dealt with her waking up. It was a nice act, however, she was smart enough to know that, since he didn't call anyone in to do it, he likely had asked to conduct these precautionary examinations himself instead of calling a doctor in for it, likely promising to call in someone more professional than himself should he find anything actually worrying.
But, based on his reactions, it seemed like everything was in working order. At least the vitals she could see on the monitors herself certainly were. Not exactly 'healthy', of course, but also not directly concerning for someone who had just gone through the wringer like she had.
Or, well...she didn't quite know how 'just' it had been. She was admittedly a bit too groggy to fully remember the exact date and time during which the attack leaving her injured had taken place, which meant even the clock on the wall was of very little help with determining just how long she had been out for.
“Do you feel anything strange?” James asked her, pulling her out of her thoughts. “Any pain? Nausea? Discomfort?”
Krieger shook her head.
“Nothing, apart from being high as a kite,” she replied before briefly glancing down at herself. Her body was almost completely covered by a white sheet, so she couldn't exactly see anything. However, she knew what was underneath. “Though I'm sure my leg would be in a lot of pain if I could actually feel it.”
In the corner of her vision, she both saw and felt Nia flinch as she was still holding her hand, her face darkening a little.
James' expression also seemed to turn more serious after her jokingly said words, betraying his usually not horrible pokerface.
Slowly, she released a long breath.
“It's gone, isn't it?” she suspected immediately. Not surprising after the state her leg had been in when she last saw it.
Nia's face just turned even more glum at that, however James sighed and nodded.
“Most of it, yes,” he replied honestly, knowing her well enough to cut any sort of bullshit. “Though you will be glad to hear that your usual 'precautions' worked without a hitch. Your body accepted the prosthesis and you should be able to walk again almost immediately.”
She smiled.
“I always told you, it pays to be prepared,” she said, lifting her unoccupied arm with a finger playfully raised in lecture. Though then, she moved her gaze over to Nia, reaching her already raised arm over to Nia's head and pulling her in a bit closer before gently caressing her cheek. “Come on, why the frown?” she asked, giving a gentle smile. “You heard what he said, I'll be good as new.”
A returning smile fought itself through Nia's tears at the caress, and she nodded meekly – before then suddenly throwing herself forwards, out of the wheelchair and onto the Admiral in a brazen embrace.
A sharp pain once again shot through the Admiral's shoulder as another body suddenly pressed down onto hers, however this time she did not care a single bit as she moved her arms around her daughter and gently petted along her back while Nia clearly did her absolute best to suppress the quiet sobs leaving her. Meanwhile James stood next to it all with a stoic expression, only his eyes betraying the obvious compassion he felt for his sister's happiness.
Once the embrace was enjoyed and a few soft words were exchanged, he aided Nia in getting back into the wheelchair wordlessly.
And the Admiral didn't need him to say anything. The mere fact that he had decided to be here told her more than enough – even if he would likely say that he was here to visit Nia when he would be asked about it.
A few moments later, the door to the room opened, with two new people entering in a visible hurry. Though, despite their haste, both Tuya and Shida froze when they fully processed the scene they had barged into, with neither of them seemingly knowing if they wanted to proceed or not.
Taking the decision off them, the Admiral lifted her hand and waved them closer.
“Come in,” she said invitingly, not at all opposed to their presence here. Not for nothing, she was more than happy with the partners that her children had found for themselves. She could hardly have wished for better ones.
Still seeming a bit hesitant, the First-Lieutenant and Lieutenant-Commander then continued their motion, even if much slower now.
James and Nia both had pretty unreadable expressions on their faces at this point as they watched their respective partners approach. They all exchanged a long gaze with each other, which clearly told her children something that she wasn't quite privy to yet.
James was finally the one to break the silence.
“What brilliant timing,” he sighed a bit as he turned around, quickly grabbing a remote from a nearby nightstand. With it, he turned up the volume of a running but up until now muted screen that the Admiral had only been tangentially aware of so far.
Though now that everyone's attention seemed to be pulled towards it, she didn't need to be a genius to realize that something important was being broadcast there. And so she got quiet and listened, her professional seriousness returning as he fought through her slightly hazy state to not miss a detail, especially so as she saw just who the cameras were pointed towards.
Leaving her enormous head to hang slightly, Apojinorana Audoxya Tua, High-Matriarch of the zodiatos and current Acting-Leader-Supreme of the G.C.S. had taken the stage behind what had to be a house-sized podium, even if it didn't appear like it on screen.
The Admiral suppressed any feelings she had towards that vile woman as she concentrated on listening to her words.
They had seemingly missed the beginning of the conference they were not tuning into, so hopefully they hadn't missed anything important.
“...firm the attack. One of the current Nahfmir-Durrehefren, previously known as Melvolhorron, used his command over several of our ships and the loyalty of crews that had been radicalized by the ongoing galactic tensions -both zodiatos and coluyvoree- to mount the attack. No outside influence on his actions from any third-party outside of the zodiatos territories has been indicated during the investigations. The black box that was discovered by the human forces and handed over to galactic investigations in full accordance to communal law and without any resistance brought some additional light to his motivations. Among the usual logs and data you would expect to find, it also contained a seemingly deliberately saved...letter of devotion to...none other than my own person. It seems that this...tragic event turned heinous crime was something that he saw as his best chance to advance his position to that of the true Durrehefren. He seemed to believe that my devotion and favor could be gained through a decisive strike against the humans, whom he believed I hated deeply – along with all other deathworlders, it appears. It also appears that he believed this hate would go far enough that I would approve of any methods to achieve this strike against them – even an attack on not only another coreworld, but one of our oldest and most loyal allies. It's-” she cut of briefly, releasing a distressed trumpeting sound before reaching her trunk up to run its ends over her many dark eyes. “It is, of course, hard for me. Not only to have such a crime committed ostensibly in my name, but also that this seems to be an image that I have imprinted onto my people. An image of hate and discord that has radicalized them to the point that they would stoop to such levels simply to see the 'opposition' suffer. And while it is no secret that the humans have been at odds with me, I would never approve of such a heinous attack, not only because...friends of mine...were lost in it, too. And I am not free of blame. I see now that I was so focused on sternly defending us from the accusations posed against us, that I entirely forgot to also show the compassion that is so necessary at a time like this. And I want to apologize for this. Deeply. Even as the attack was committed by a blinded individual, the zodiatos will take full responsibility for it. We are willing to pay any required reparations to each of the injured parties involved, and we deeply wish that our ties we have to those harmed can be mended, be they old or new, strong or tattered. We will gladly welcome any diplomatic outreach from the injured parties as well as all others who are concerned in hopes to not only aid in the recovery of our alliances, but also in the healing of our very own souls as we will take any effort we can to move away from the hate that has caused this tragedy. Our people will not become one of violence and terror, that I swear by all three of my names. And I hope that all others follow that example, so that this tragic event may become a part of our history that will never be repeated. Now more than ever, we need to remind ourselves of the values that this galaxy was built upon. I thank each and every one of you for your attention. Success to you. Prosperity for all. Unity in the community.”
2024.05.29 00:11 Ashamed_Ad_2738 Judgement and critical thinking
Thou shalt not judge.
This seems like an easy thing to unpack and maintain. However, there are contradictions in the Christian faith that suggest we must judge in order to abstain from certain behaviors.
2 Corinthians 6:14 CSB [14] Do not be yoked together with those who do not believe. For what partnership is there between righteousness and lawlessness? Or what fellowship does light have with darkness?
1 Corinthians 6:9-11 CSB [9] Don’t you know that the unrighteous will not inherit God’s kingdom? Do not be deceived: No sexually immoral people, idolaters, adulterers, or males who have sex with males, [10] no thieves, greedy people, drunkards, verbally abusive people, or swindlers will inherit God’s kingdom. [11] And some of you used to be like this. But you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God.
(I'm using CSB because this is what people use)
If I am to prevent myself from being yoked, I am making judgements that others are therefore not believers. I do not know their hearts, yet I am called to make judgements as to another's character or standing with God. How am I to know if I do not first judge someone?
Now, perhaps you say that I'm missing the point. Take the following from Matthew, for instance:
Matthew 7:1-3 CSB [1] “Do not judge, so that you won’t be judged. [2] For you will be judged by the same standard with which you judge others, and you will be measured by the same measure you use. [3] Why do you look at the splinter in your brother’s eye but don’t notice the beam of wood in your own eye?
This seems to indicate that the purpose is to ensure oneself has repented. If I don't take care of my own problems, how am I expected to take care of someone else's? Okay, sure... but, much of Paul's gospels are very "finger pointy." This seems contradictory, and his writing in the New Testament is what causes a lot of discourse between non believers and believers. A lot of the self righteousness seems to be born from Paul's writings. At the very least, many Christians use Paul's gospels to judge non believers.
You will tell me that the Holy Spirit gives you discernment and allows you to see those who aren't righteous, but that just sounds like justification for judgement. And Paul's gospels back up that judgement. We create laws for humans to use to judge with and we enact laws in an attempt to uphold God's principles from the Bible. Is that not the literal, official meaning of judgement? We shouldn't judge as if we are God, I thought?
How can Christians justify judicial actions from biblical teachings? How is it justified to put biblically based rules in place anywhere if humans are not to be the judges of God's word?
submitted by Ashamed_Ad_2738 to Christianity [link] [comments]
This seems like an easy thing to unpack and maintain. However, there are contradictions in the Christian faith that suggest we must judge in order to abstain from certain behaviors.
2 Corinthians 6:14 CSB [14] Do not be yoked together with those who do not believe. For what partnership is there between righteousness and lawlessness? Or what fellowship does light have with darkness?
1 Corinthians 6:9-11 CSB [9] Don’t you know that the unrighteous will not inherit God’s kingdom? Do not be deceived: No sexually immoral people, idolaters, adulterers, or males who have sex with males, [10] no thieves, greedy people, drunkards, verbally abusive people, or swindlers will inherit God’s kingdom. [11] And some of you used to be like this. But you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God.
(I'm using CSB because this is what people use)
If I am to prevent myself from being yoked, I am making judgements that others are therefore not believers. I do not know their hearts, yet I am called to make judgements as to another's character or standing with God. How am I to know if I do not first judge someone?
Now, perhaps you say that I'm missing the point. Take the following from Matthew, for instance:
Matthew 7:1-3 CSB [1] “Do not judge, so that you won’t be judged. [2] For you will be judged by the same standard with which you judge others, and you will be measured by the same measure you use. [3] Why do you look at the splinter in your brother’s eye but don’t notice the beam of wood in your own eye?
This seems to indicate that the purpose is to ensure oneself has repented. If I don't take care of my own problems, how am I expected to take care of someone else's? Okay, sure... but, much of Paul's gospels are very "finger pointy." This seems contradictory, and his writing in the New Testament is what causes a lot of discourse between non believers and believers. A lot of the self righteousness seems to be born from Paul's writings. At the very least, many Christians use Paul's gospels to judge non believers.
You will tell me that the Holy Spirit gives you discernment and allows you to see those who aren't righteous, but that just sounds like justification for judgement. And Paul's gospels back up that judgement. We create laws for humans to use to judge with and we enact laws in an attempt to uphold God's principles from the Bible. Is that not the literal, official meaning of judgement? We shouldn't judge as if we are God, I thought?
How can Christians justify judicial actions from biblical teachings? How is it justified to put biblically based rules in place anywhere if humans are not to be the judges of God's word?
2024.05.28 23:49 Nightmare8667 Avali Race for DND
Hello! First-time poster here.
Here's some context - I've been wanting to make a DND character that represents my Avali OC, Astral, but after scouring through the internet I never found any good sources that had an Avali race for DND. So, I decided to make my own! The following is all the stats and description you need to be an Avali in DND. I'm definitely looking for feedback, as this is my first Homebrew creation and I haven't really used the race much, at least for balancing purposes. If you have any recommendations, please lmk!
The Avali Race -
Lore: The Avali are a small, bird-like species coming from the planet Avalon. They are bi-pedal and have three fingers. They also have four ears to allow for better awareness on their home planet. Due to the dark nature of Avalon, the Avali have evolved to have giant eyes to absorb as much light as possible. However, Avali still have to use their ears to watch for potential threats and predators. They have feathers along their forearms to allow for easy flight on Avalon, but on bigger planets with more gravity, like Earth, they don't work.
Traits: Ability Score Increase - +1 DEX and +2 INT. Dur to their small stature, they have an easier time moving around and dodging, while their highly advanced educations systems adds an intelligence buff.
Age - Avali age similar to humans, but only on their home planet. Avali life expectance is 80 on Avalon, but one year on Avalon is equal to 3 Earth years. This means that the Avali life expectancy is around 320 Earth years.
Alignment - Most of the Avali on Earth are there to study and learn how the civilizations and species on Earth have developed and how they are going to develop. The laws in Avalon over the topic of breaking laws on other planets tend to be harsher than the actual laws broken themselves, so most Avali tend to stay on the Lawful neutral side.
Size - Avali are small, usually topping out at 4'6.
Speed - Avali base walking speed is 40 ft.
Darkvision - due to the dark nature of Avalon, the Avali have evolved to see in the dark. You can see in dim light within 50 ft of you as if it were bright light, and in darkness as if it were dim light.
Guilds - As an Avali, you have grown up in a pack that has specialized in one of profession. Choose one skill from the following and gain proficiency in it, as well as gaining any equipment associated with that skill. -History -Stealth + Thieves' Tools -Nature -Religion + Religious emblem (of your choosing) -Performance -Medicine
Faction - As an Avali, you can choose different faction to live in that give you different benefits. -The Illuminate. Choosing this faction will grant you your choice of a weapon, and a proficiency in a skill of your choice. -The Oracle Cult. Choosing this faction will grant you +2 CON, +2 STR, and proficiency in religion. -Other. You can make your own faction, with any Bonuses you think would make sense.
Languages - Due to Avalon's incredible education system, you can speak, read, and write Common, Avali, and one other language of your choosing.
submitted by Nightmare8667 to avali [link] [comments]
Here's some context - I've been wanting to make a DND character that represents my Avali OC, Astral, but after scouring through the internet I never found any good sources that had an Avali race for DND. So, I decided to make my own! The following is all the stats and description you need to be an Avali in DND. I'm definitely looking for feedback, as this is my first Homebrew creation and I haven't really used the race much, at least for balancing purposes. If you have any recommendations, please lmk!
The Avali Race -
Lore: The Avali are a small, bird-like species coming from the planet Avalon. They are bi-pedal and have three fingers. They also have four ears to allow for better awareness on their home planet. Due to the dark nature of Avalon, the Avali have evolved to have giant eyes to absorb as much light as possible. However, Avali still have to use their ears to watch for potential threats and predators. They have feathers along their forearms to allow for easy flight on Avalon, but on bigger planets with more gravity, like Earth, they don't work.
Traits: Ability Score Increase - +1 DEX and +2 INT. Dur to their small stature, they have an easier time moving around and dodging, while their highly advanced educations systems adds an intelligence buff.
Age - Avali age similar to humans, but only on their home planet. Avali life expectance is 80 on Avalon, but one year on Avalon is equal to 3 Earth years. This means that the Avali life expectancy is around 320 Earth years.
Alignment - Most of the Avali on Earth are there to study and learn how the civilizations and species on Earth have developed and how they are going to develop. The laws in Avalon over the topic of breaking laws on other planets tend to be harsher than the actual laws broken themselves, so most Avali tend to stay on the Lawful neutral side.
Size - Avali are small, usually topping out at 4'6.
Speed - Avali base walking speed is 40 ft.
Darkvision - due to the dark nature of Avalon, the Avali have evolved to see in the dark. You can see in dim light within 50 ft of you as if it were bright light, and in darkness as if it were dim light.
Guilds - As an Avali, you have grown up in a pack that has specialized in one of profession. Choose one skill from the following and gain proficiency in it, as well as gaining any equipment associated with that skill. -History -Stealth + Thieves' Tools -Nature -Religion + Religious emblem (of your choosing) -Performance -Medicine
Faction - As an Avali, you can choose different faction to live in that give you different benefits. -The Illuminate. Choosing this faction will grant you your choice of a weapon, and a proficiency in a skill of your choice. -The Oracle Cult. Choosing this faction will grant you +2 CON, +2 STR, and proficiency in religion. -Other. You can make your own faction, with any Bonuses you think would make sense.
Languages - Due to Avalon's incredible education system, you can speak, read, and write Common, Avali, and one other language of your choosing.
2024.05.28 21:06 WabbajackedWacko Adventures with an Interdimensional Psychopath 41
***Lily***
We all just stare at it for a while, waiting to see what it does. The first person to make a move is Wabbajack, inching his way closer towards it. As he gets close, he pokes it. As he does, I could swear it makes a squeaking sound.
He gasps as he picks it up. At that moment, I notice that the tail stays close to the ball of fluff, kinda flying around it. Maybe it has a set distance? He then proceeds to squeeze it a couple more times as it squeaks. “This is amazing!” He yells, squeezing it some more.
Eventually, it spins around to face him. It opens its mouth and out comes a tongue flying out like a frog and connects to Wabbajacks face. The rest of the body then comes flying towards his head as it bites his head, knocking over Wabbajacks hat.
I hear a muffled, “Aww. I was having fun. Oh well, got to admit though, it’s feisty.”
“It seems to be a Umoya Vulpes Uhane.” I hear to my right. I turn to see Mogsten looking into a book. “Fascinating! This seems to be the only other time that there has Ever been a recorded sighting of one. There is almost next to no information on its capabilities here.” He adds. He then slams the book shut as he exclaims, “I’ll pay whatever you want for him!”
I then hear more muffled noises say, “Wow! This guy must be really rare for Mogsten to offer anything. Still, first, Lily, how do you feel?”
I look back at the ball of leathery fur that has Wabbajack’s head in its mouth. I feel… something. I put my finger to my chin as I say, “I don’t quite know what I feel right now honestly.”
Wabbajack continues to try and speak as he says muffled again, “Well, familiars are rare, and the experience is different from person to person. Just don’t try to rush it and things should make sense I imagine. What do you want to name this fella?”
I don’t know honestly. But, first things first, “Could you get it off your head now? It’s hard to hear what your saying.” I say.
“Wait, Wabbajack has been talking?” Mogsten asks.
“Well, yeah. Haven’t you heard him?” I ask.
Mogsten looks at me funny and then back at the ball of fur. He then walks over to it and kicks Wabbajacks foot out from underneath him, knocking him down on his back. He then goes up to the fox ball and whispers into its ear. For some reason, as clear as day, I hear, “Can you hear me whispering Lily? Nod if you do.”
So, I nod.
“Fascinating!” He says. He then snaps his fingers as Gourdsten hands him a notepad and a pen. As soon as they are in his hands, he starts writing down some stuff. He stops to look at the fox ball and holds up the notepad to it. “Anything?” he asks.
“What?” I yell back.
He then shrugs and goes back to writing notes.
“Can I get back up now?” Wabbajack says, still muffled.
I rub my temple, wishing that the fox ball would just get off his head.
Just as I think that, it hops off and starts to walk towards me. Well, waddle may be a more accurate word. Or, whatever it is called for how gators walk. It then stops in front of me and tilts its head. Its tail then connects to the body and, as it does, the body stretches out, taking a noodle like shape. It then flies up and wraps its body around my neck! It yawns, and I think I hear it snore. Funny, like it is now, it’s kinda like a scarf. Although the breathing I feel from it adds to the soothing effect as well.
“Spectacular!” I hear Mogsten exclaim. I look towards him to see him fervently taking notes. I also happen to see Wabbajack had gotten back up, put his hat back on, and was walking over here as well.
“I’m amazed. It looks like this was a success.” Wabbajack says.
“Of course! Who do you think I am? Some amateur?” Mogsten says, not taking his eyes off my living scarf.
Regardless, the leather belly provides a good grip while the fur is Extremely soft. I could see myself falling asleep as well if I wasn’t busy trying to process everything right now.
“Welp, it all worked out. You got a familiar and Mogsten is one of the few who successfully summoned it.” Wabbajack points out.
Mogsten shoots up as he realizes it too as he says, “Yes. YES! I DID! People will come from everywhere to see my wares and request my talent!” He then starts dancing along with Gourdsten.
“Although, you’ll have to up security if people keep requesting familiars.” Wabbajack mentions.
The dance slowly comes to a stop as that fact sinks in and Mogsten says, “Blast.” He then snaps his fingers as he says, “I can provide a questionnaire and a test, that people will have to pay for as well! Oh hohohohoho!” He laughs as he starts dancing again.
Wabbajack just shrugs and turns back to me. He asks, “Well, introduced you to about most of the important places that are around here, all that is left would be the furniture then. Unless there is anything else you can think of?”
As I start petting my living scarf, I try to think really hard if there is anything else I need to know. We got equipment, some magic books for me to study, my mark of sentience, a familiar, had a fight or two with Wabbajack, and met his family. I shrug and say, “No, I actually think that was it.”
He wipes his forehead as he says, “Thank goodness. I can’t tell you how crazy today has been.”
I can’t help but let out a chuckle as I say, “You think it’s been crazy for you? It’s been one new concept after another for me.”
He looks at me, chuckles, and says, “Fair enough. I almost forgot that All this must be new to you.” I had just gotten changed back when he then walks to the flap leading to the front as he says, “Well then, shall we get some furnishing?”
I nod and quickly chase after him. As we exit the store, I decide to ask Wabbajack some more questions as we peruse the bazaar for any good furniture being sold. I ask him an important question, at least to me anyways, “Why do you do this job? With your talents and skills, you could do whatever. And don’t try to sell me on that Monster of Monsters thing. Don’t you get tired of it?”
He stops, sighs, and tilts his hat down as he explains, “Well, if you really intend on traveling with me, then I guess you’ll have to know sooner or later. Let me ask You a question first however. Do you think nothing good could come from death?”
I look down as I answer, “Well, I mean, there is always another way, right?”
He responds with, “True, but I have learned why being a hero is as disastrous as the destruction they prevent. If I had to guess, Silkie probably told you about That, right?”
I quickly try to look away but realize, I immediately sold myself out.
“I thought so.” He says. He then follows up with, “There was a reason for that. There was a warlike nation growing in power. The reason for that is that none of the other nations were taking it seriously, so they pillaged and plundered as much as they like. Now, what is the best way to convince a nation’s leader that an “insignificant” threat is an actual one without them laughing at you?”
I look up and try to consider.
Before I can however, he continues, “I played the part of the nation about to destroy everything, and…assassinated… that infant. When the king and queen discovered their child killed by, what reports believed was one of those “barbarians”, they then took the threat Very seriously. They beefed up security and their guard. When the nation was invaded, instead of being wiped out, they defended themselves and crushed the opposition. I admit, it haunts me most nights. The crying, the sadness, then the stifling quiet. I hated it. But, they didn’t have the time for me to convince them conventionally. That is why I do these things, so others don’t have to. If they were defeated, then the warlike nation would have just steamrolled over everyone else. Now, tell me, what happens when a culture developed entirely around killing others runs out of things to kill?”
I ask him this time, “Is this a rhetorical question or do you want me to answer it this time?”
He shrugs and says, “Only if you want to try.”
I sigh and start thinking about it. “If a culture based on war ran out of people to fight… then they would try to look to improving their lives, right?”
He pats my head as he says, “You’re a genuinely good person. If that was how it worked, I would hopefully be out of a job. No, unfortunately. Nine point nine times out of ten, they just start killing each other. Point zero five percent scenario that they manage to start invading other dimensions. And the last of it, would hopefully improve their lot.”
“That’s so sad.” I mention.
“Welp, that is why I am around, I imagine. I wish I could save everyone but then, it becomes a cycle of dependency. If they can’t manage to take care of themselves, then when the rock holding it all up disappears, then things just go back to being as bad as they were before. Sometimes it winds up being worse than before. So, while I am impressed of true-blue heroes, I don’t envy them. That’s why I take orders from my boss. He promised me that, if I listen to him, he could help me protect entire dimensions. And the best options are sometimes the darkest ones. And who better to wander the darkness than someone who just about everyone hates already?” he asks while pointing to himself.
While he says that cheerfully, I swear I could sense a sadness to it as well. As I think that, my familiar floats over to Wabbajack and starts licking his face.
“He-e-ey. Easy there. Didn’t think I was that tasty.” He says as he tries to wave it off.
“Wolfie! Stop it!” I say without thinking.
It looks back, tilts its head, and floats back to being around my neck.
“Wolfie?” Wabbajack asks.
“Yeah… I guess. I guess that is what I decided to name it.” I say as I pet its fur.
I hear him chuckle. I respond with, “What?”
“Nothing.” He answers. He then waves forward as he asks, “Well then, shall we continue?”
I smile and walk forward. I then see him catch up immediately. When he does, Wolfie then starts wagging her tail, I think.
“What’s he so excited about?” Wabbajack asks.
“She. And I’m not sure.” I respond. I have a suspicion but, there are still too many variables to answer before I can start providing answers.
Wabbajack puts both his hands up defensively as he says, “My bad.
Sorry.”
“It’s fine.” I tell him.
We finally reached the bazaar and start looking around. As I am looking around, Wabbajack smacks my back and says, “That guy looks promising.”
I look over in the direction that he points, and I see a turtle person wearing some very poofy-looking robes, puffing smoke from a long oboe-looking pipe. Behind him, is some sort of tube-like machine. Wabbajack walks over to him, so I follow shortly after him.
As soon as he goes up to him, Wabbajack asks, “Excuse me good sir, what would you be selling here?”
There is a pause, he then lets out some smoke, and finally says, “Nothing.”
“Nothing?” I ask.
Another pause and he responds with, “Yep.” He then let’s out some more smoke.
“But then, what is this stall here then?” I ask.
As there is Another pause, I realize that this must be their shtick. He then answers with, “Fabrication.”
“Fabrication? You actually got a permit for that?” Wabbajack asks.
One pause later, he answers, “Yep.”
I look to Wabbajack and ask, “What is Fabrication and, why is it such a big deal?”
“Fabrication is a SUPER advanced form of blacksmithy. As long as you have the materials, you can determine what gets crafted, how it gets crafted, and what it looks like. The only catch is that it depends on the materials. Don’t expect to get golden bricks from grass. That requires rewriting at the genetic level, which you would have to be a master alchemist for that. Even I don’t have the means for fabrication. Although, the alchemy stuff can be pretty fun once you get past all that boring stuff. Not to mention profitable.” Wabbajack explains.
“Wait. You can’t do Fabrication?!” I ask in astonishment.
“Well, I could if I had the materials and patience for it. The time it takes to be permitted to fabricate Anything takes an unrealistic amount of time. I made it about halfway through before even I lost my patience.” Wabbajack answers.
“Why did you stop halfway?” I ask.
“Staying in a classroom for half a millennium alone, being told the yes and no’s of fabrication tends to make a lot of people go mad.” He continues to explain.
Before I can express my disbelief, we hear a very slow laugh, followed by, “Wimp.” I look over to the turtle man in time for him to blow some more smoke.
“You got me their old timer.” I hear Wabbajack say.
“Wait, why does it take so long?” I ask.
“Fabrication is a very meticulous process. Possibly the most meticulous. Not to mention, as I am sure you can imagine, it would be Very profitable for whomever can pull it off. It’s one of the most closely watched professions in all of Spiritopia. Not to mention, if someone of dubious morality decided to fabricate items, chances are that a LOT of bad things would come of it. You have to really have to be discerning when you break into the business. But, if you manage to pull it off, you are held in VERY high regards. Almost untouchable.” Wabbajack explains.
I then hear another, “Yep.” And another puff of smoke.
I then look at the turtle man and ask, “Does that mean you could make us some furniture?”
There is a pause as he looks me up and down. After a while, he says, “Nope.”
I am shocked. I ask, “Why not?”
Pause, puff, and says, “Inexperienced.”
I tilt my head down as I say dejectedly, “Oh, I see.” Wolfie also lets out a sad “hmmm”
Wabbajack then asks himself, “What about me?”
He then looks him up and down as well. This time, he scratches his chin. After a while longer, he says, “Yep. But I’ll charge you more than usual.”
Before I can exclaim my disapproval, Wabbajack says, “Deal!”
As I look to him aggravated, I then hear the turtle man say, “What would you like?”
Wabbajack looks to me as he asks, “What would you like? I imagine some drawers with a vanity mirror, a better bed, some sort of entertainment, maybe even a closet?”
I exclaim, “Wait just one minute! Why would you willingly pay more than normal?”
“Like I said, it’s a profession held in high regard.” Wabbajack explains.
“That.” As the turtle man starts to say something as well. “That and your reputation as Mr. Happy. But, I do like to make my own judgements as well.” He continues as he then lets out another puff.
“There you go.” Wabbajack says, pointing towards the turtle man.
I sigh and say, “Still strikes me as unfair.”
The turtle man laughs again as he says, “Inexperienced.”
Wolfie lets out a growl.
“Easy now, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Let’s not get upset over the finer details.” Wabbajack responds with.
I let out another sigh as I say, “Alright, fine. All the things you mentioned sound good.” I then puff my face.
Wabbajack then lets out a laugh as he says, “Alright. Don’t worry, if you don’t like something about it, we could always come back and change it now that we know someone who can fabricate stuff.”
He then looks at the turtle man as he asks, “Before we talk business, may we exchange names? My name is Wabbajack.” He then puts his hat to his chest and offers a small bow.
Pause, puff, and he says, “Polite. My name is… hold on. Been a while.” He then scratches his chin. He then goes, “Oh! That’s right. Thomas is my name.”
“That’s a good name.” Wabbajack says.
“Flattery won’t lower the price lad.” Thomas says.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Wabbajack responds.
I then put my finger to my chin as I think and start seriously thinking about what I want my room to look like. I honestly want to start pumping ideas but, as I think about it, I don’t really know what I want everything to look like, let alone what it would look like together. Especially since it has become very apparent that my level of fashion sense is not quite up to snuff as I once thought it was.
As I am thinking all this, I hear a meat-ripping noise that snaps me back into reality. I look towards the sound and I see that Wabbajack had ripped his arm off at the shoulder and is now holding it towards Thomas. I naturally let out a scream.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?!” I yell.
They both look at me and Wabbajack asks, as nonchalantly as ever, “What’s up?”
““What’s up?” You RIPPED your ARM OFF!” I point out.
He looks at the arm he’s holding out and points at it with the arm that he Should be missing as he asks, “This arm?”
I look back and forth and the realization must have been obvious as he then asks, “You forgot about me being able to regenerate, didn’t you?”
I blush as I say, “Yeah…”. I snap out of my embarrassment as I think to ask, “But, doesn’t that still hurt?”
He just shrugs as he asks, “Yeah, why wouldn’t it?”
“Why did you rip your arm off then?” I ask in response.
“Because, we will just simply come back when you understand what would work best for you want for your own room and style. But, for now, this would be the perfect opportunity to give you a device to access the same font of information I have access to And a means of travel if we ever get separated somehow.” He explains as Thomas takes his torn arm and examines it.
Before I can say anything else, we hear, “Five currency…”
Five currency? Just five or five million? It couldn’t be so cheap after he said he would charge more than normal, right?
Just as I think that, Wabbajack says, “Awesome, here you go.” As he hands him five of those matte dice.
“What happened to being more expensive?” I blurt out.
Thomas just shakes his head as he just says, “Inexperienced…” Again.
Wolfie lets out another small growl.
“Now, now. Calm down. Fabrication isn’t expensive by any means since the customer has to provide the materials themselves. So, Fabricators can’t honestly charge a lot since they aren’t doing a lot.” Wabbajack explains while Thomas throws the arm into his machine and starts hitting buttons.
“That makes sense” I think to myself.
Next thing I know, Thomas throws me this small calculator like device. I look down at it and, while it does have the shape of a calculator, the symbols on the buttons are fluctuating and where the screen is supposed to be is this oval like projector lens and on the front-facing side is this little bulb, like what you would see on a remote control.
The confusion on my face must have been apparent as Wabbajack says, “Don’t worry, just fiddle with it and sooner or later you’ll figure out how it works.” He then pats my shoulder.
He looks back over his shoulder and says “Thanks Thomas, we will definitely be coming back. Phenomenal work.” He then gives a thumbs up.
Thomas lets out a puff after giving us a smug smile.
Wolfie takes his scarf form and wraps around my neck as Wabbajack pulls me along by the arm, he asks, “So what next?”
I put the calculator to my head as I honestly try to process everything that’s happened. Not to mention all the studying and practice I have to do just to make everything feel normal. All I can think to say is, “Maybe… it would be best if we go back home?”
“Yeah, that sounds good honestly. It’s getting late and your body needs rest to process everything that’s happened. It must be… well, actually shoot. It IS a whole other world from what you are used to. Best to take it slow. Even though today hasn’t exactly gone smoothly. Yilimet should also be done with all his shopping as well.” He says, using air quotes around shopping.
I guess the air quotes are because Yilimet has been cooking for a household of people with no sense of taste for who knows how long now. As I let out an audible gulp loud enough to make Wabbajack laugh.
With how crazy today has been, I expected the walk back to that spot with the two guards to be even more eventful but, nothing. Everyone pretty much just kept their distance for the most part. I think most were also just heading home.
As we get there, I see Yilimet holding an unusual number of bags as he says, “Hey you two, you wouldn’t believe the news I heard! Someone managed to summon a familiar after all this time and it didn’t go on a murderous rampage. Crazy, right?”
“Crazy, sure. Let’s get home. I’m sure things are going to be a bit more interesting than usual from here on.” Wabbajack says as he cuts open a portal home.
Interesting? Beyond a shadow of a doubt. I can’t help but feel like that, even by his standards, there will be quite some exciting and fascinating adventures ahead of both of us. Just as we all walk through the portal home together, Yilimet asks, “Hey, where did that fox come from?”
[First] [Previous]
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We all just stare at it for a while, waiting to see what it does. The first person to make a move is Wabbajack, inching his way closer towards it. As he gets close, he pokes it. As he does, I could swear it makes a squeaking sound.
He gasps as he picks it up. At that moment, I notice that the tail stays close to the ball of fluff, kinda flying around it. Maybe it has a set distance? He then proceeds to squeeze it a couple more times as it squeaks. “This is amazing!” He yells, squeezing it some more.
Eventually, it spins around to face him. It opens its mouth and out comes a tongue flying out like a frog and connects to Wabbajacks face. The rest of the body then comes flying towards his head as it bites his head, knocking over Wabbajacks hat.
I hear a muffled, “Aww. I was having fun. Oh well, got to admit though, it’s feisty.”
“It seems to be a Umoya Vulpes Uhane.” I hear to my right. I turn to see Mogsten looking into a book. “Fascinating! This seems to be the only other time that there has Ever been a recorded sighting of one. There is almost next to no information on its capabilities here.” He adds. He then slams the book shut as he exclaims, “I’ll pay whatever you want for him!”
I then hear more muffled noises say, “Wow! This guy must be really rare for Mogsten to offer anything. Still, first, Lily, how do you feel?”
I look back at the ball of leathery fur that has Wabbajack’s head in its mouth. I feel… something. I put my finger to my chin as I say, “I don’t quite know what I feel right now honestly.”
Wabbajack continues to try and speak as he says muffled again, “Well, familiars are rare, and the experience is different from person to person. Just don’t try to rush it and things should make sense I imagine. What do you want to name this fella?”
I don’t know honestly. But, first things first, “Could you get it off your head now? It’s hard to hear what your saying.” I say.
“Wait, Wabbajack has been talking?” Mogsten asks.
“Well, yeah. Haven’t you heard him?” I ask.
Mogsten looks at me funny and then back at the ball of fur. He then walks over to it and kicks Wabbajacks foot out from underneath him, knocking him down on his back. He then goes up to the fox ball and whispers into its ear. For some reason, as clear as day, I hear, “Can you hear me whispering Lily? Nod if you do.”
So, I nod.
“Fascinating!” He says. He then snaps his fingers as Gourdsten hands him a notepad and a pen. As soon as they are in his hands, he starts writing down some stuff. He stops to look at the fox ball and holds up the notepad to it. “Anything?” he asks.
“What?” I yell back.
He then shrugs and goes back to writing notes.
“Can I get back up now?” Wabbajack says, still muffled.
I rub my temple, wishing that the fox ball would just get off his head.
Just as I think that, it hops off and starts to walk towards me. Well, waddle may be a more accurate word. Or, whatever it is called for how gators walk. It then stops in front of me and tilts its head. Its tail then connects to the body and, as it does, the body stretches out, taking a noodle like shape. It then flies up and wraps its body around my neck! It yawns, and I think I hear it snore. Funny, like it is now, it’s kinda like a scarf. Although the breathing I feel from it adds to the soothing effect as well.
“Spectacular!” I hear Mogsten exclaim. I look towards him to see him fervently taking notes. I also happen to see Wabbajack had gotten back up, put his hat back on, and was walking over here as well.
“I’m amazed. It looks like this was a success.” Wabbajack says.
“Of course! Who do you think I am? Some amateur?” Mogsten says, not taking his eyes off my living scarf.
Regardless, the leather belly provides a good grip while the fur is Extremely soft. I could see myself falling asleep as well if I wasn’t busy trying to process everything right now.
“Welp, it all worked out. You got a familiar and Mogsten is one of the few who successfully summoned it.” Wabbajack points out.
Mogsten shoots up as he realizes it too as he says, “Yes. YES! I DID! People will come from everywhere to see my wares and request my talent!” He then starts dancing along with Gourdsten.
“Although, you’ll have to up security if people keep requesting familiars.” Wabbajack mentions.
The dance slowly comes to a stop as that fact sinks in and Mogsten says, “Blast.” He then snaps his fingers as he says, “I can provide a questionnaire and a test, that people will have to pay for as well! Oh hohohohoho!” He laughs as he starts dancing again.
Wabbajack just shrugs and turns back to me. He asks, “Well, introduced you to about most of the important places that are around here, all that is left would be the furniture then. Unless there is anything else you can think of?”
As I start petting my living scarf, I try to think really hard if there is anything else I need to know. We got equipment, some magic books for me to study, my mark of sentience, a familiar, had a fight or two with Wabbajack, and met his family. I shrug and say, “No, I actually think that was it.”
He wipes his forehead as he says, “Thank goodness. I can’t tell you how crazy today has been.”
I can’t help but let out a chuckle as I say, “You think it’s been crazy for you? It’s been one new concept after another for me.”
He looks at me, chuckles, and says, “Fair enough. I almost forgot that All this must be new to you.” I had just gotten changed back when he then walks to the flap leading to the front as he says, “Well then, shall we get some furnishing?”
I nod and quickly chase after him. As we exit the store, I decide to ask Wabbajack some more questions as we peruse the bazaar for any good furniture being sold. I ask him an important question, at least to me anyways, “Why do you do this job? With your talents and skills, you could do whatever. And don’t try to sell me on that Monster of Monsters thing. Don’t you get tired of it?”
He stops, sighs, and tilts his hat down as he explains, “Well, if you really intend on traveling with me, then I guess you’ll have to know sooner or later. Let me ask You a question first however. Do you think nothing good could come from death?”
I look down as I answer, “Well, I mean, there is always another way, right?”
He responds with, “True, but I have learned why being a hero is as disastrous as the destruction they prevent. If I had to guess, Silkie probably told you about That, right?”
I quickly try to look away but realize, I immediately sold myself out.
“I thought so.” He says. He then follows up with, “There was a reason for that. There was a warlike nation growing in power. The reason for that is that none of the other nations were taking it seriously, so they pillaged and plundered as much as they like. Now, what is the best way to convince a nation’s leader that an “insignificant” threat is an actual one without them laughing at you?”
I look up and try to consider.
Before I can however, he continues, “I played the part of the nation about to destroy everything, and…assassinated… that infant. When the king and queen discovered their child killed by, what reports believed was one of those “barbarians”, they then took the threat Very seriously. They beefed up security and their guard. When the nation was invaded, instead of being wiped out, they defended themselves and crushed the opposition. I admit, it haunts me most nights. The crying, the sadness, then the stifling quiet. I hated it. But, they didn’t have the time for me to convince them conventionally. That is why I do these things, so others don’t have to. If they were defeated, then the warlike nation would have just steamrolled over everyone else. Now, tell me, what happens when a culture developed entirely around killing others runs out of things to kill?”
I ask him this time, “Is this a rhetorical question or do you want me to answer it this time?”
He shrugs and says, “Only if you want to try.”
I sigh and start thinking about it. “If a culture based on war ran out of people to fight… then they would try to look to improving their lives, right?”
He pats my head as he says, “You’re a genuinely good person. If that was how it worked, I would hopefully be out of a job. No, unfortunately. Nine point nine times out of ten, they just start killing each other. Point zero five percent scenario that they manage to start invading other dimensions. And the last of it, would hopefully improve their lot.”
“That’s so sad.” I mention.
“Welp, that is why I am around, I imagine. I wish I could save everyone but then, it becomes a cycle of dependency. If they can’t manage to take care of themselves, then when the rock holding it all up disappears, then things just go back to being as bad as they were before. Sometimes it winds up being worse than before. So, while I am impressed of true-blue heroes, I don’t envy them. That’s why I take orders from my boss. He promised me that, if I listen to him, he could help me protect entire dimensions. And the best options are sometimes the darkest ones. And who better to wander the darkness than someone who just about everyone hates already?” he asks while pointing to himself.
While he says that cheerfully, I swear I could sense a sadness to it as well. As I think that, my familiar floats over to Wabbajack and starts licking his face.
“He-e-ey. Easy there. Didn’t think I was that tasty.” He says as he tries to wave it off.
“Wolfie! Stop it!” I say without thinking.
It looks back, tilts its head, and floats back to being around my neck.
“Wolfie?” Wabbajack asks.
“Yeah… I guess. I guess that is what I decided to name it.” I say as I pet its fur.
I hear him chuckle. I respond with, “What?”
“Nothing.” He answers. He then waves forward as he asks, “Well then, shall we continue?”
I smile and walk forward. I then see him catch up immediately. When he does, Wolfie then starts wagging her tail, I think.
“What’s he so excited about?” Wabbajack asks.
“She. And I’m not sure.” I respond. I have a suspicion but, there are still too many variables to answer before I can start providing answers.
Wabbajack puts both his hands up defensively as he says, “My bad.
Sorry.”
“It’s fine.” I tell him.
We finally reached the bazaar and start looking around. As I am looking around, Wabbajack smacks my back and says, “That guy looks promising.”
I look over in the direction that he points, and I see a turtle person wearing some very poofy-looking robes, puffing smoke from a long oboe-looking pipe. Behind him, is some sort of tube-like machine. Wabbajack walks over to him, so I follow shortly after him.
As soon as he goes up to him, Wabbajack asks, “Excuse me good sir, what would you be selling here?”
There is a pause, he then lets out some smoke, and finally says, “Nothing.”
“Nothing?” I ask.
Another pause and he responds with, “Yep.” He then let’s out some more smoke.
“But then, what is this stall here then?” I ask.
As there is Another pause, I realize that this must be their shtick. He then answers with, “Fabrication.”
“Fabrication? You actually got a permit for that?” Wabbajack asks.
One pause later, he answers, “Yep.”
I look to Wabbajack and ask, “What is Fabrication and, why is it such a big deal?”
“Fabrication is a SUPER advanced form of blacksmithy. As long as you have the materials, you can determine what gets crafted, how it gets crafted, and what it looks like. The only catch is that it depends on the materials. Don’t expect to get golden bricks from grass. That requires rewriting at the genetic level, which you would have to be a master alchemist for that. Even I don’t have the means for fabrication. Although, the alchemy stuff can be pretty fun once you get past all that boring stuff. Not to mention profitable.” Wabbajack explains.
“Wait. You can’t do Fabrication?!” I ask in astonishment.
“Well, I could if I had the materials and patience for it. The time it takes to be permitted to fabricate Anything takes an unrealistic amount of time. I made it about halfway through before even I lost my patience.” Wabbajack answers.
“Why did you stop halfway?” I ask.
“Staying in a classroom for half a millennium alone, being told the yes and no’s of fabrication tends to make a lot of people go mad.” He continues to explain.
Before I can express my disbelief, we hear a very slow laugh, followed by, “Wimp.” I look over to the turtle man in time for him to blow some more smoke.
“You got me their old timer.” I hear Wabbajack say.
“Wait, why does it take so long?” I ask.
“Fabrication is a very meticulous process. Possibly the most meticulous. Not to mention, as I am sure you can imagine, it would be Very profitable for whomever can pull it off. It’s one of the most closely watched professions in all of Spiritopia. Not to mention, if someone of dubious morality decided to fabricate items, chances are that a LOT of bad things would come of it. You have to really have to be discerning when you break into the business. But, if you manage to pull it off, you are held in VERY high regards. Almost untouchable.” Wabbajack explains.
I then hear another, “Yep.” And another puff of smoke.
I then look at the turtle man and ask, “Does that mean you could make us some furniture?”
There is a pause as he looks me up and down. After a while, he says, “Nope.”
I am shocked. I ask, “Why not?”
Pause, puff, and says, “Inexperienced.”
I tilt my head down as I say dejectedly, “Oh, I see.” Wolfie also lets out a sad “hmmm”
Wabbajack then asks himself, “What about me?”
He then looks him up and down as well. This time, he scratches his chin. After a while longer, he says, “Yep. But I’ll charge you more than usual.”
Before I can exclaim my disapproval, Wabbajack says, “Deal!”
As I look to him aggravated, I then hear the turtle man say, “What would you like?”
Wabbajack looks to me as he asks, “What would you like? I imagine some drawers with a vanity mirror, a better bed, some sort of entertainment, maybe even a closet?”
I exclaim, “Wait just one minute! Why would you willingly pay more than normal?”
“Like I said, it’s a profession held in high regard.” Wabbajack explains.
“That.” As the turtle man starts to say something as well. “That and your reputation as Mr. Happy. But, I do like to make my own judgements as well.” He continues as he then lets out another puff.
“There you go.” Wabbajack says, pointing towards the turtle man.
I sigh and say, “Still strikes me as unfair.”
The turtle man laughs again as he says, “Inexperienced.”
Wolfie lets out a growl.
“Easy now, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Let’s not get upset over the finer details.” Wabbajack responds with.
I let out another sigh as I say, “Alright, fine. All the things you mentioned sound good.” I then puff my face.
Wabbajack then lets out a laugh as he says, “Alright. Don’t worry, if you don’t like something about it, we could always come back and change it now that we know someone who can fabricate stuff.”
He then looks at the turtle man as he asks, “Before we talk business, may we exchange names? My name is Wabbajack.” He then puts his hat to his chest and offers a small bow.
Pause, puff, and he says, “Polite. My name is… hold on. Been a while.” He then scratches his chin. He then goes, “Oh! That’s right. Thomas is my name.”
“That’s a good name.” Wabbajack says.
“Flattery won’t lower the price lad.” Thomas says.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Wabbajack responds.
I then put my finger to my chin as I think and start seriously thinking about what I want my room to look like. I honestly want to start pumping ideas but, as I think about it, I don’t really know what I want everything to look like, let alone what it would look like together. Especially since it has become very apparent that my level of fashion sense is not quite up to snuff as I once thought it was.
As I am thinking all this, I hear a meat-ripping noise that snaps me back into reality. I look towards the sound and I see that Wabbajack had ripped his arm off at the shoulder and is now holding it towards Thomas. I naturally let out a scream.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?!” I yell.
They both look at me and Wabbajack asks, as nonchalantly as ever, “What’s up?”
““What’s up?” You RIPPED your ARM OFF!” I point out.
He looks at the arm he’s holding out and points at it with the arm that he Should be missing as he asks, “This arm?”
I look back and forth and the realization must have been obvious as he then asks, “You forgot about me being able to regenerate, didn’t you?”
I blush as I say, “Yeah…”. I snap out of my embarrassment as I think to ask, “But, doesn’t that still hurt?”
He just shrugs as he asks, “Yeah, why wouldn’t it?”
“Why did you rip your arm off then?” I ask in response.
“Because, we will just simply come back when you understand what would work best for you want for your own room and style. But, for now, this would be the perfect opportunity to give you a device to access the same font of information I have access to And a means of travel if we ever get separated somehow.” He explains as Thomas takes his torn arm and examines it.
Before I can say anything else, we hear, “Five currency…”
Five currency? Just five or five million? It couldn’t be so cheap after he said he would charge more than normal, right?
Just as I think that, Wabbajack says, “Awesome, here you go.” As he hands him five of those matte dice.
“What happened to being more expensive?” I blurt out.
Thomas just shakes his head as he just says, “Inexperienced…” Again.
Wolfie lets out another small growl.
“Now, now. Calm down. Fabrication isn’t expensive by any means since the customer has to provide the materials themselves. So, Fabricators can’t honestly charge a lot since they aren’t doing a lot.” Wabbajack explains while Thomas throws the arm into his machine and starts hitting buttons.
“That makes sense” I think to myself.
Next thing I know, Thomas throws me this small calculator like device. I look down at it and, while it does have the shape of a calculator, the symbols on the buttons are fluctuating and where the screen is supposed to be is this oval like projector lens and on the front-facing side is this little bulb, like what you would see on a remote control.
The confusion on my face must have been apparent as Wabbajack says, “Don’t worry, just fiddle with it and sooner or later you’ll figure out how it works.” He then pats my shoulder.
He looks back over his shoulder and says “Thanks Thomas, we will definitely be coming back. Phenomenal work.” He then gives a thumbs up.
Thomas lets out a puff after giving us a smug smile.
Wolfie takes his scarf form and wraps around my neck as Wabbajack pulls me along by the arm, he asks, “So what next?”
I put the calculator to my head as I honestly try to process everything that’s happened. Not to mention all the studying and practice I have to do just to make everything feel normal. All I can think to say is, “Maybe… it would be best if we go back home?”
“Yeah, that sounds good honestly. It’s getting late and your body needs rest to process everything that’s happened. It must be… well, actually shoot. It IS a whole other world from what you are used to. Best to take it slow. Even though today hasn’t exactly gone smoothly. Yilimet should also be done with all his shopping as well.” He says, using air quotes around shopping.
I guess the air quotes are because Yilimet has been cooking for a household of people with no sense of taste for who knows how long now. As I let out an audible gulp loud enough to make Wabbajack laugh.
With how crazy today has been, I expected the walk back to that spot with the two guards to be even more eventful but, nothing. Everyone pretty much just kept their distance for the most part. I think most were also just heading home.
As we get there, I see Yilimet holding an unusual number of bags as he says, “Hey you two, you wouldn’t believe the news I heard! Someone managed to summon a familiar after all this time and it didn’t go on a murderous rampage. Crazy, right?”
“Crazy, sure. Let’s get home. I’m sure things are going to be a bit more interesting than usual from here on.” Wabbajack says as he cuts open a portal home.
Interesting? Beyond a shadow of a doubt. I can’t help but feel like that, even by his standards, there will be quite some exciting and fascinating adventures ahead of both of us. Just as we all walk through the portal home together, Yilimet asks, “Hey, where did that fox come from?”
[First] [Previous]
2024.05.28 20:59 Hintek Cafe Transformation
Oh first time even being here? Well welcome on in! Ah yes, you’ve come around these parts for the special cafes, have you? Yeah they’re really great, lots of amazing choices around here!
My recommendations? Well sure!
Just remember now! Each cafe has two minor effects and the first special effect. When you visit a cafe for the first time. You get the special effect and minor effects permanently. When you visit a second cafe you get two minor effects permanently. After that only while being in the other cafes will the minor effects come into play.
It changes you in a rather strange way. Physically, you take on traits from your favourite media character in general, however it’s much smaller, you’re still human, but someone could point at you and be “Hey, they look like that one guy!”. Mentally, your mind becomes that much more active, instead of reading a book and it appears faintly in your head? It’s instead like it’s on the big screen at all times.
First Time Visitor: When you first sit down, with your favourite drink, a good book, maybe some headphones on. You’ll feel at peace, it won’t be long until you realise you’ve let all the worry and stress melt away for a bit. Any rest you take will actually give you regular benefits, no matter what situation you're in, no matter what ails you at the time, you can and will feel peace. This peace will benefit and help any mental health issues in the process, but it is still up to you to take charge still.
Servant’s Silverskin - You know Maid Cafes? Yeah that! Except it’s got Maids, Butlers, Servants etc etc! Here you never have to do anything… okay, well thats a lie, however, instinctively the wait staff here will immediately know what you want, your order, how much communication you want to have, any extras you’d find in a regular maid cafe. And the waitstaff are genuinely happy to do this, sure they’re here to get paid but they do love their job. Lots of comfy personalised foods here!
It changes you in a lighter way compared to others. Physically, if anyone you care for greatly needs help and you know you’re gonna stay in contact with them for a long time, your body slowly changes to keep up with their day. Need a running buddy? More toned for greater endurance! Need a shoulder to cry on? Yours will be the most comfortable! So on and so forth. Mentally, you’ll be more of an empath, understanding others emotions better, from body language or tone of voice or anything that makes the most sense to you.
First Time Visitor: When you sit in those cosy seats. When the nicest person comes up to you. When you're delivered one of the most delicious meals! Pure happiness, pure peace. You look around to the rest of the customers and you can see words floating above their heads, almost transparent. You are now able to sense what people want and need to make them relax more. This doesn’t guarantee you’ll be able to do that task, but most people have lots of little ones and if you can help with that, they’ll know who did it and they’ll be grateful, guaranteed.
Musical Mochas - Now this place is huge! Like a big studio filled with lots of rooms. Think like a big underground Karaoke place! Both instruments and drinks are delivered over a phone! Places for one person to enjoy themselves or big groups to come have fun. They even have a game where people can anonymously sing or play their hearts out and win fun rewards! Good times for everyone!
This one is much more inside the person than anything else. Physically, you will be in a lot more control of your body, mostly vocal cords, fingers etc, it’ll feel like you’ve been learning for years. Mentally, any instrument in your hands you’ll know how to play it, not well, but not badly. You want to get better? Come back and practice, it’ll feel that much more satisfying.
First Time Visitor: You book your room. Call over the phone for a drink to warm your vocal cords up. Pick up the tablet and choose a song. And let it all out. And your brain will shock as words come to your head effortlessly, the notes, everything. That feeling in your head, heart and soul, it's a gorgeous song. You will be able to make up so many interesting ideas within your head, you’ll have the motivation to learn how to play and create these songs.
Organic Office - Dead Silent, the only noise going on is that of the taps of laptop keys, the click of pens, the scratch of pencils. A much more modern cafe, with quality, but basic drinks, at the perfect temperatures. Absolutely recommend the coffee here.
This is one where it actually does not give a physical trait, but makes up for it with two mental ones. The first is where you become keenly aware of how your body is doing and how its state is affecting both productivity and general well-being. You need to make sure you take care of yourself. The second is that, when in flow state, you will only be interrupted by yourself, tv-shows, podcast, background noise, it can all be absorbed or ignored, it will never break that flow.
First Time Visitor: You take your task into the building. Ask for a simple drink. And sit on a table. You take a sip. Look at your task and you're off. Your fingers glide like the wind, your head is in the game, your eyes steady. You can now enter the flow state on a whim, however you can still absolutely burn yourself out so be careful and take care of yourself.
Animal Americano Aroma - A Cafe with a dark Jungle sort of vibe! When walking in you’re given an order and immediately an animal comes to sit nearby. All quite small in size, but lovely and cosy nonetheless. They could curl up on your lap, want to play with you, all the nice things. An added bonus is that all these animals are rescues! Also by far the best juice.
This one changes your affinity with nature itself. Physically, pets will quickly imprint on you in order to establish a bond faster. Mentally, you’ll be more in tune with animals, it’ll be much easier to work with them and understand their personalities.
First Time Visitor: When you first sit down, the intoxicating smell of flowers in the air. A nice drink on your table and a little critter in your lap. A nice time, something sort of clicked in your mind. You can now take one or two traits from an animal and add it yourself cosmetically! Want porcupine-like hair? Be spiky! You want a wagging tail? Wag away! And as a bonus whatever cosmetic you choose, the closer you get to that animal.
Pastry Pour-Over - A lovely little pastry shop with a small amount of space to sit, they’re more used to asking for deliveries but they absolutely adore having customers sit inside and watch them make their food. And of course they absolutely have the best pastries
This one affects the amount of energy in your body. Physically, every meal you make, tastes like twice the quality and gives twice the nutrients. Mentally, learning the ins and outs of cooking and baking will be much easier, measurements, recipes and all.
First Time Visitor: The welcoming atmosphere, the sound of a fire crackling, the smell of the sugar. It all hits at once when you enter here. A nice sweet on your plate is all you need when you're here and everything feels perfect. Any B.O you emit now smells like a pastry/sweet of your choice! When people smell they’re put at ease, expect a lot of people to feel comfortable around you.
submitted by Hintek to 6Perks [link] [comments]
My recommendations? Well sure!
Just remember now! Each cafe has two minor effects and the first special effect. When you visit a cafe for the first time. You get the special effect and minor effects permanently. When you visit a second cafe you get two minor effects permanently. After that only while being in the other cafes will the minor effects come into play.
~Pick one Primary Cafe and One Secondary Cafe~
Bookshelf Blend - Now this place is a favourite of mine! A large place with so many places to sit around, it’s also usually very quiet. It’s filled with books of all kinds, we don’t discriminate. Usually has the best tea as well. This is actually where I sat for the first time.It changes you in a rather strange way. Physically, you take on traits from your favourite media character in general, however it’s much smaller, you’re still human, but someone could point at you and be “Hey, they look like that one guy!”. Mentally, your mind becomes that much more active, instead of reading a book and it appears faintly in your head? It’s instead like it’s on the big screen at all times.
First Time Visitor: When you first sit down, with your favourite drink, a good book, maybe some headphones on. You’ll feel at peace, it won’t be long until you realise you’ve let all the worry and stress melt away for a bit. Any rest you take will actually give you regular benefits, no matter what situation you're in, no matter what ails you at the time, you can and will feel peace. This peace will benefit and help any mental health issues in the process, but it is still up to you to take charge still.
Servant’s Silverskin - You know Maid Cafes? Yeah that! Except it’s got Maids, Butlers, Servants etc etc! Here you never have to do anything… okay, well thats a lie, however, instinctively the wait staff here will immediately know what you want, your order, how much communication you want to have, any extras you’d find in a regular maid cafe. And the waitstaff are genuinely happy to do this, sure they’re here to get paid but they do love their job. Lots of comfy personalised foods here!
It changes you in a lighter way compared to others. Physically, if anyone you care for greatly needs help and you know you’re gonna stay in contact with them for a long time, your body slowly changes to keep up with their day. Need a running buddy? More toned for greater endurance! Need a shoulder to cry on? Yours will be the most comfortable! So on and so forth. Mentally, you’ll be more of an empath, understanding others emotions better, from body language or tone of voice or anything that makes the most sense to you.
First Time Visitor: When you sit in those cosy seats. When the nicest person comes up to you. When you're delivered one of the most delicious meals! Pure happiness, pure peace. You look around to the rest of the customers and you can see words floating above their heads, almost transparent. You are now able to sense what people want and need to make them relax more. This doesn’t guarantee you’ll be able to do that task, but most people have lots of little ones and if you can help with that, they’ll know who did it and they’ll be grateful, guaranteed.
Musical Mochas - Now this place is huge! Like a big studio filled with lots of rooms. Think like a big underground Karaoke place! Both instruments and drinks are delivered over a phone! Places for one person to enjoy themselves or big groups to come have fun. They even have a game where people can anonymously sing or play their hearts out and win fun rewards! Good times for everyone!
This one is much more inside the person than anything else. Physically, you will be in a lot more control of your body, mostly vocal cords, fingers etc, it’ll feel like you’ve been learning for years. Mentally, any instrument in your hands you’ll know how to play it, not well, but not badly. You want to get better? Come back and practice, it’ll feel that much more satisfying.
First Time Visitor: You book your room. Call over the phone for a drink to warm your vocal cords up. Pick up the tablet and choose a song. And let it all out. And your brain will shock as words come to your head effortlessly, the notes, everything. That feeling in your head, heart and soul, it's a gorgeous song. You will be able to make up so many interesting ideas within your head, you’ll have the motivation to learn how to play and create these songs.
Organic Office - Dead Silent, the only noise going on is that of the taps of laptop keys, the click of pens, the scratch of pencils. A much more modern cafe, with quality, but basic drinks, at the perfect temperatures. Absolutely recommend the coffee here.
This is one where it actually does not give a physical trait, but makes up for it with two mental ones. The first is where you become keenly aware of how your body is doing and how its state is affecting both productivity and general well-being. You need to make sure you take care of yourself. The second is that, when in flow state, you will only be interrupted by yourself, tv-shows, podcast, background noise, it can all be absorbed or ignored, it will never break that flow.
First Time Visitor: You take your task into the building. Ask for a simple drink. And sit on a table. You take a sip. Look at your task and you're off. Your fingers glide like the wind, your head is in the game, your eyes steady. You can now enter the flow state on a whim, however you can still absolutely burn yourself out so be careful and take care of yourself.
Animal Americano Aroma - A Cafe with a dark Jungle sort of vibe! When walking in you’re given an order and immediately an animal comes to sit nearby. All quite small in size, but lovely and cosy nonetheless. They could curl up on your lap, want to play with you, all the nice things. An added bonus is that all these animals are rescues! Also by far the best juice.
This one changes your affinity with nature itself. Physically, pets will quickly imprint on you in order to establish a bond faster. Mentally, you’ll be more in tune with animals, it’ll be much easier to work with them and understand their personalities.
First Time Visitor: When you first sit down, the intoxicating smell of flowers in the air. A nice drink on your table and a little critter in your lap. A nice time, something sort of clicked in your mind. You can now take one or two traits from an animal and add it yourself cosmetically! Want porcupine-like hair? Be spiky! You want a wagging tail? Wag away! And as a bonus whatever cosmetic you choose, the closer you get to that animal.
Pastry Pour-Over - A lovely little pastry shop with a small amount of space to sit, they’re more used to asking for deliveries but they absolutely adore having customers sit inside and watch them make their food. And of course they absolutely have the best pastries
This one affects the amount of energy in your body. Physically, every meal you make, tastes like twice the quality and gives twice the nutrients. Mentally, learning the ins and outs of cooking and baking will be much easier, measurements, recipes and all.
First Time Visitor: The welcoming atmosphere, the sound of a fire crackling, the smell of the sugar. It all hits at once when you enter here. A nice sweet on your plate is all you need when you're here and everything feels perfect. Any B.O you emit now smells like a pastry/sweet of your choice! When people smell they’re put at ease, expect a lot of people to feel comfortable around you.
2024.05.28 20:52 MK_Matrix Diana had normal sleep paralysis… until she started moving
The worst kinds of monsters are the ones that you don’t recognize at first. For some folks, monsters are closer than they may think - shrouded in the darkness, waiting for the opportunity to strike. For a lucky few, they are protected from monsters by their loved ones, and allowed to grow and succeed.
Such was the case with Diana and Adam, a couple from Buckhannon, West Virginia. They weren’t exactly the spitting image of love - they argued sometimes, worked opposite shifts, and didn’t go out on dates that often. But, they were married, and that’s a lot farther than most couples make it. Diana was the social butterfly of the pair - dozens of friends, good relationships with people all around town, and a reputation for always carrying a sincere smile on her face and a helping hand for anyone who needed it.
At first glance, you would think that she was the one who grew up there, not Adam, but that wasn’t the case. After all, they were living in Adam’s childhood home, gifted to them by his parents as a wedding gift (and excuse to move to Florida). Adam was somewhat of a recluse - he had fine social skills, but worked the graveyard shift and never left the house much other than that. People would sometimes shoot the two glances when they were rarely sighted together - the old saying “opposites attract” might be true after all.
While they were indeed opposites, and they didn’t show it often, they did love each other, and protected each other from the monsters of the world. Not that there were many to defend from in their sleepy little town - there hadn’t been anything more than petty crime since the early 1960s.
They had been living in their home for around three years, and for Diana, it was just starting to feel like a home. When they first moved in, the place had a somber atmosphere. There was no light from street lamps peeking in through the blinds, eager to dance on her velvety skin on dark nights. There were no honks of cars outside, or faint music from a party in the distance. The environment was entirely different from the city she was raised in - and it took her a while to not hate it. After making friends with people around Buckhannon, though, her relationship with the place began to heal - she wasn’t suddenly head over heels for it, but she understood it as a staging area for the true meaning of home - the people she surrounded herself with.
Adam was accustomed to the place immediately, having lived there for years, and didn’t exactly enjoy the constant slew of company that Diana had parading through their halls. After all, he was dead tired, come sunup, and just wanted peace and quiet when he got home. He would often disregard visitors in his living room, offering a simple nod and slight smile as he climbed the old creaky stairs to go to bed. This didn’t exactly paint him nor the couple well - why was Diana married to this antisocial oddity who didn’t even seem to want people in his house at all?
While their lifestyles didn’t exactly line up, they still tried to take each other’s needs into consideration. Diana would usually go over to others’ houses if she wasn’t working and wanted to spend time with friends. If she did have company over, she tried to keep the volume to a minimum, which isn’t exactly difficult with simple conversation and coffee. Conversely, Adam would carefully traverse the house at night to ready himself for work (as much as it allowed for, with its aged floorboards). He loved her enough to let her sleep, and she loved him enough to do the same.
It was on a rare night where Adam didn’t have work that the couple got to go to bed together. The crisp autumn night let them leave the windows open to be awoken by the sounds of the birds outside. They shared a rare kiss, and rolled onto opposite sides of the bed to hopefully get a full night of sleep - they didn’t have anything to do tomorrow, after all.
Diana’s eyelids shuttered open to a mostly dark room, only pierced by a rare spot of light shining through the open window. Weird, she thought - rarely did the moonlight penetrate the treeline, although it may have been easier now, with the browned leaves crumpling off of the maple trees. Despite this oddity, everything else appeared normal - it was still dead silent, save for the distant crickets chirping in the woods. What had awoken her?
She tried to sit up, if nothing else to retrieve a glass of water. However, she could not. Her eyes widened as her heart began to race - she didn’t know what was happening, but she didn’t like it. The only part of her that could move were her emerald eyes, darting across the room and looking for anything that might be causing this, or anything she could use to snap herself out of it.
And then, it stepped into the light. Upon seeing it, she wanted to scream, loud enough to reduce every window in the house to sand. But she could not - her lungs seemed to be one of the only organs that worked, as she kept breathing, despite the fact that she didn’t want to risk making noise. Her heart also worked, evidently - it was beating so fast that she thought it might give out.
Standing in front of her was a man - or what looked like one. It was around seven feet tall, and had mostly human features, apart from a few things that were strictly impossible for any living person to have. Its right arm was completely gone. The right half of its face was that of an expressionless young man - the right, simply a rim of burnt flesh and muscle surrounding a skull. Its feet were missing their skin completely, although they were intact enough for it to stand.
This was it, she thought. I’m going to die here, in this bed, and my husband is going to find me when he wakes up. She didn’t have a choice but to wait for the ghoul to approach her and rip her to shreds, or do who knows what else. But as the seconds turned into minutes (or at least felt like them), the being stayed still. Its expression remained neutral - no murderous glee, anger, or even sadness. It didn’t seem to want to harm her - or at least she hoped. Suddenly, the window slammed shut, and she blinked for the first time since she woke up. The figure was gone, and the window was indeed sealed, rendering the room completely silent. Her husband stirred next to her, and peered over at her as she sat there, hyperventilating, having finally regained control of her motor functions. Rather than offering comfort, though, he simply rolled back over. He had stayed up all of last night and day so they could go to bed together, and nothing was going to stop him from resting, not even his clearly distraught wife.
Even though she wanted to, she didn’t mention it over breakfast the next day. She was afraid of many things. She was scared that Adam wouldn’t believe her, and would ridicule her or take the experience as yet another jab towards his childhood home. She was afraid she was losing her mind, and didn’t want to think about it. She just had to pray that it wouldn’t happen again, and spent her day looking over her shoulder.
An accident at the factory the next evening abruptly granted Adam the night off, and they spent it watching an old romantic comedy in the living room. Diana wasn’t feeling very romantic, however - every single crack of a twig from what was probably just deer outside nearly sent her into a panic attack. Whatever that thing was, she didn’t want to see it again. She even prayed for the first time in years, simply to request that whatever foul spirit haunted her nightmares be banished. She drifted off to sleep with this as a slight comfort.
All comfort shattered immediately when she woke up in the darkness again. The being spared no time to hide in the shadows this time - Diana immediately saw it, staring out the window. It turned its head towards her, and she internally grimaced - its face was just as unsettling a sight as it was the previous night. This time, though, something about it was different - it had actual emotion on what remained of its face, even if just slightly. She saw a dull sadness, perhaps with a taste of bitterness, but she couldn’t see quite that much detail. All she knew was that whatever it was, it looked like it was hurting.
It suddenly raised its arm, and she felt a wave of cold air pass over her. She blinked, but it didn’t disappear. It stood, almost as if it was waiting for her to move towards it. To her surprise, she could - she cautiously lifted her torso up in the bed and moved the covers off of her legs, never taking her eyes off of it. Once she was out of bed, they stood and looked at each other, as if in a game of cat and mouse for who would move first. Ultimately, Diana won that competition, and the being turned and walked towards the bedroom’s door frame. It stopped mere feet from it, and turned its head back towards her, waiting for her. Everything inside of her, from her past experiences to basic survival instinct, was screaming at her not to follow it. But she somehow knew that it wasn’t going to harm her. She didn’t necessarily feel safe around it, but something compelled her to follow it.
So she did. She followed it down the stairs, and down another set into the boiler room. It led her towards a corner of the basement, and then turned around. She began looking around the room, searching for what this thing may have led her to. She tried to speak, but found herself unable to. The light coming through the window slightly shifted, and she saw a handle on the wall that matched the color of the paint surrounding it. It was a crawl space door, partially blocked by boxes and paint cans, but just barely visible. The being motioned for her to open it.
She had already made a stupid decision by following it down here, she reasoned - why should she enter a dark, dank crawlspace? This brief moment of logic and reason was quickly overridden by another voice within her head - hers still, but bearing different reasoning. “If it wanted to kill me, wouldn’t it have done so already?” she thought, and this was enough to get her to move the boxes, shift the paint cans aside, and try the door handle. It didn’t budge at first, as it was apparently sealed. After a few more violent tugs and the severing of the rubber seal surrounding the door, it violently swung open. Immediately, a foul smell permeated through the cold air, and she immediately began profusely gagging. It was a smell more horrible than anything she had ever had the misfortune of experiencing - worse than sewage, or spoiled food. It was the smell of rot.
The being was unfazed by this, and again motioned for her to go through the door, with a point from a finger that was barely attached to its decaying hand. Despite the fact that she had moments before been rolling on the ground, trying not to vomit, she again felt compelled to listen to the figure. She made her way through the tight tunnel, scraping her knees against the oddly brown-stained concrete, until she found herself in a room big enough that she could stand up. She fumbled around for a light switch, and didn’t find one. Regardless, the single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling flicked on, and when the room lit up, she couldn’t hold back the sickness anymore. She vomited all over the floor before collapsing against the wall, sobbing. She was still unable to speak or scream - despite her best efforts.
Inside the room were no less than twenty corpses, all stacked in a heap in the corner. Some were almost skeletal, while some appeared fresh. Lining the walls were dozens of instruments of torture, some foreign, some disturbingly familiar. She could not believe what she was seeing - a cell of death hiding beneath her home for who knows how long. The light flickered, and the being appeared in the center of the room. In the light, she could see more of its hideous features - a slit throat, missing fingers, missing teeth from the protruding skull. It calmly walked towards her as she sobbed, preparing to join the pile. But it did not touch her. It stood over her as she opened her eyes again, and extended its decomposing hand to her.
She was baffled, to say the least. Why did this thing bring her down here? Was it the one responsible for this? If not, then who did this? Questions raced through her overwhelmed mind as she raised her head to look at it once again. As they looked at each other, she suddenly understood, and all of the questions were answered. She took its hand, and rose to her feet. It looked at her for a few more seconds, and the light flickered again. It was gone.
The next morning, Diana made breakfast in the kitchen, shaking with anticipation for when her husband would awaken. She did not get an ounce of sleep after what had happened - she spent the night cleaning her vomit from the floor and sealing the door with superglue. She was so lost in thought, thinking about what had happened, that when a hand was placed on her shoulder, she nearly jumped out of her skin. Adam spun her around and pinned her against the stove. He firmly asked what she was doing in the basement last night.
How did he know? Diana wasn’t sure, but she quickly lied about going downstairs to change the temperature on the thermostat. His grip on her shoulders eased up a bit, and she exhaled in relief - before he raised his voice. She looked at him, shocked, as he yelled at her to never go down there without him again. He turned and left the kitchen and the house, slamming the front door as he left.
The next few weeks were uneasy. Diana walked on eggshells around Adam, who refused to even look at her. She didn’t know if he had anything to do with what she found, but she did not want to believe it. Even so, his family had owned the house since it was built - who else could it have been? She tried not to think about it, and didn’t even see friends anymore, in fear that she would accidentally reveal her secret. Even on nights where he was off work, they did not sleep together - she took the spare bedroom and locked the door. She didn’t get good sleep - but she slept through the night.
One night, she woke up in the pitch black once again. The being needed no introduction, standing by her bedside and waiting for her to awaken. It began walking towards the door again, and she followed without hesitation this time - whatever it had to show her, she was ready to see it. She found herself in the basement once again, as it simply stood there and looked at her. She couldn’t say anything to it, which was fine - she didn’t have anything to say.
Suddenly, the door to the basement flew open, the lights flicked on, and Adam flew down the stairs, angrier than she had ever seen him. As she tried to back up against the wall, he grabbed her arm and began screaming at her. As he yelled in her face, she had a choice to make, and she chose to push him away. He stumbled backwards to the edge of the shadows of the basement’s darkest corners, and in that instant, a rotting hand grabbed him and violently yanked him into the darkness. The lights cut out, as shrieks and squeals echoed from the corner. Just as suddenly as they started, though, they stopped. She stood there, completely emotionless, in the pitch dark.
The basement was entirely silent, as was the outside world - the crickets were quiet, there was no wind, and the radiator had stopped humming. The moonlight seeping into the room illuminated only the floor, where a pool of crimson blood slowly grew larger. Out of the shadows stepped the being, its wet, skinned feet slapping against the concrete. It did not move towards her - it just stared.
Then, out of the one eye it still had, it began to cry. It did not make noise, but teardrops rolled down its cheeks, and the sound of them falling off of its face and into the puddle of blood became the only noise in the room. At that moment, she finally understood.
The light flicked back on, and it disappeared. She looked into the corner where her husband was dragged, and found nothing. She ascended the stairs, still in her nightgown and slippers, and opened the front door, shutting it behind her as she left.
submitted by MK_Matrix to scarystories [link] [comments]
Such was the case with Diana and Adam, a couple from Buckhannon, West Virginia. They weren’t exactly the spitting image of love - they argued sometimes, worked opposite shifts, and didn’t go out on dates that often. But, they were married, and that’s a lot farther than most couples make it. Diana was the social butterfly of the pair - dozens of friends, good relationships with people all around town, and a reputation for always carrying a sincere smile on her face and a helping hand for anyone who needed it.
At first glance, you would think that she was the one who grew up there, not Adam, but that wasn’t the case. After all, they were living in Adam’s childhood home, gifted to them by his parents as a wedding gift (and excuse to move to Florida). Adam was somewhat of a recluse - he had fine social skills, but worked the graveyard shift and never left the house much other than that. People would sometimes shoot the two glances when they were rarely sighted together - the old saying “opposites attract” might be true after all.
While they were indeed opposites, and they didn’t show it often, they did love each other, and protected each other from the monsters of the world. Not that there were many to defend from in their sleepy little town - there hadn’t been anything more than petty crime since the early 1960s.
They had been living in their home for around three years, and for Diana, it was just starting to feel like a home. When they first moved in, the place had a somber atmosphere. There was no light from street lamps peeking in through the blinds, eager to dance on her velvety skin on dark nights. There were no honks of cars outside, or faint music from a party in the distance. The environment was entirely different from the city she was raised in - and it took her a while to not hate it. After making friends with people around Buckhannon, though, her relationship with the place began to heal - she wasn’t suddenly head over heels for it, but she understood it as a staging area for the true meaning of home - the people she surrounded herself with.
Adam was accustomed to the place immediately, having lived there for years, and didn’t exactly enjoy the constant slew of company that Diana had parading through their halls. After all, he was dead tired, come sunup, and just wanted peace and quiet when he got home. He would often disregard visitors in his living room, offering a simple nod and slight smile as he climbed the old creaky stairs to go to bed. This didn’t exactly paint him nor the couple well - why was Diana married to this antisocial oddity who didn’t even seem to want people in his house at all?
While their lifestyles didn’t exactly line up, they still tried to take each other’s needs into consideration. Diana would usually go over to others’ houses if she wasn’t working and wanted to spend time with friends. If she did have company over, she tried to keep the volume to a minimum, which isn’t exactly difficult with simple conversation and coffee. Conversely, Adam would carefully traverse the house at night to ready himself for work (as much as it allowed for, with its aged floorboards). He loved her enough to let her sleep, and she loved him enough to do the same.
It was on a rare night where Adam didn’t have work that the couple got to go to bed together. The crisp autumn night let them leave the windows open to be awoken by the sounds of the birds outside. They shared a rare kiss, and rolled onto opposite sides of the bed to hopefully get a full night of sleep - they didn’t have anything to do tomorrow, after all.
Diana’s eyelids shuttered open to a mostly dark room, only pierced by a rare spot of light shining through the open window. Weird, she thought - rarely did the moonlight penetrate the treeline, although it may have been easier now, with the browned leaves crumpling off of the maple trees. Despite this oddity, everything else appeared normal - it was still dead silent, save for the distant crickets chirping in the woods. What had awoken her?
She tried to sit up, if nothing else to retrieve a glass of water. However, she could not. Her eyes widened as her heart began to race - she didn’t know what was happening, but she didn’t like it. The only part of her that could move were her emerald eyes, darting across the room and looking for anything that might be causing this, or anything she could use to snap herself out of it.
And then, it stepped into the light. Upon seeing it, she wanted to scream, loud enough to reduce every window in the house to sand. But she could not - her lungs seemed to be one of the only organs that worked, as she kept breathing, despite the fact that she didn’t want to risk making noise. Her heart also worked, evidently - it was beating so fast that she thought it might give out.
Standing in front of her was a man - or what looked like one. It was around seven feet tall, and had mostly human features, apart from a few things that were strictly impossible for any living person to have. Its right arm was completely gone. The right half of its face was that of an expressionless young man - the right, simply a rim of burnt flesh and muscle surrounding a skull. Its feet were missing their skin completely, although they were intact enough for it to stand.
This was it, she thought. I’m going to die here, in this bed, and my husband is going to find me when he wakes up. She didn’t have a choice but to wait for the ghoul to approach her and rip her to shreds, or do who knows what else. But as the seconds turned into minutes (or at least felt like them), the being stayed still. Its expression remained neutral - no murderous glee, anger, or even sadness. It didn’t seem to want to harm her - or at least she hoped. Suddenly, the window slammed shut, and she blinked for the first time since she woke up. The figure was gone, and the window was indeed sealed, rendering the room completely silent. Her husband stirred next to her, and peered over at her as she sat there, hyperventilating, having finally regained control of her motor functions. Rather than offering comfort, though, he simply rolled back over. He had stayed up all of last night and day so they could go to bed together, and nothing was going to stop him from resting, not even his clearly distraught wife.
Even though she wanted to, she didn’t mention it over breakfast the next day. She was afraid of many things. She was scared that Adam wouldn’t believe her, and would ridicule her or take the experience as yet another jab towards his childhood home. She was afraid she was losing her mind, and didn’t want to think about it. She just had to pray that it wouldn’t happen again, and spent her day looking over her shoulder.
An accident at the factory the next evening abruptly granted Adam the night off, and they spent it watching an old romantic comedy in the living room. Diana wasn’t feeling very romantic, however - every single crack of a twig from what was probably just deer outside nearly sent her into a panic attack. Whatever that thing was, she didn’t want to see it again. She even prayed for the first time in years, simply to request that whatever foul spirit haunted her nightmares be banished. She drifted off to sleep with this as a slight comfort.
All comfort shattered immediately when she woke up in the darkness again. The being spared no time to hide in the shadows this time - Diana immediately saw it, staring out the window. It turned its head towards her, and she internally grimaced - its face was just as unsettling a sight as it was the previous night. This time, though, something about it was different - it had actual emotion on what remained of its face, even if just slightly. She saw a dull sadness, perhaps with a taste of bitterness, but she couldn’t see quite that much detail. All she knew was that whatever it was, it looked like it was hurting.
It suddenly raised its arm, and she felt a wave of cold air pass over her. She blinked, but it didn’t disappear. It stood, almost as if it was waiting for her to move towards it. To her surprise, she could - she cautiously lifted her torso up in the bed and moved the covers off of her legs, never taking her eyes off of it. Once she was out of bed, they stood and looked at each other, as if in a game of cat and mouse for who would move first. Ultimately, Diana won that competition, and the being turned and walked towards the bedroom’s door frame. It stopped mere feet from it, and turned its head back towards her, waiting for her. Everything inside of her, from her past experiences to basic survival instinct, was screaming at her not to follow it. But she somehow knew that it wasn’t going to harm her. She didn’t necessarily feel safe around it, but something compelled her to follow it.
So she did. She followed it down the stairs, and down another set into the boiler room. It led her towards a corner of the basement, and then turned around. She began looking around the room, searching for what this thing may have led her to. She tried to speak, but found herself unable to. The light coming through the window slightly shifted, and she saw a handle on the wall that matched the color of the paint surrounding it. It was a crawl space door, partially blocked by boxes and paint cans, but just barely visible. The being motioned for her to open it.
She had already made a stupid decision by following it down here, she reasoned - why should she enter a dark, dank crawlspace? This brief moment of logic and reason was quickly overridden by another voice within her head - hers still, but bearing different reasoning. “If it wanted to kill me, wouldn’t it have done so already?” she thought, and this was enough to get her to move the boxes, shift the paint cans aside, and try the door handle. It didn’t budge at first, as it was apparently sealed. After a few more violent tugs and the severing of the rubber seal surrounding the door, it violently swung open. Immediately, a foul smell permeated through the cold air, and she immediately began profusely gagging. It was a smell more horrible than anything she had ever had the misfortune of experiencing - worse than sewage, or spoiled food. It was the smell of rot.
The being was unfazed by this, and again motioned for her to go through the door, with a point from a finger that was barely attached to its decaying hand. Despite the fact that she had moments before been rolling on the ground, trying not to vomit, she again felt compelled to listen to the figure. She made her way through the tight tunnel, scraping her knees against the oddly brown-stained concrete, until she found herself in a room big enough that she could stand up. She fumbled around for a light switch, and didn’t find one. Regardless, the single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling flicked on, and when the room lit up, she couldn’t hold back the sickness anymore. She vomited all over the floor before collapsing against the wall, sobbing. She was still unable to speak or scream - despite her best efforts.
Inside the room were no less than twenty corpses, all stacked in a heap in the corner. Some were almost skeletal, while some appeared fresh. Lining the walls were dozens of instruments of torture, some foreign, some disturbingly familiar. She could not believe what she was seeing - a cell of death hiding beneath her home for who knows how long. The light flickered, and the being appeared in the center of the room. In the light, she could see more of its hideous features - a slit throat, missing fingers, missing teeth from the protruding skull. It calmly walked towards her as she sobbed, preparing to join the pile. But it did not touch her. It stood over her as she opened her eyes again, and extended its decomposing hand to her.
She was baffled, to say the least. Why did this thing bring her down here? Was it the one responsible for this? If not, then who did this? Questions raced through her overwhelmed mind as she raised her head to look at it once again. As they looked at each other, she suddenly understood, and all of the questions were answered. She took its hand, and rose to her feet. It looked at her for a few more seconds, and the light flickered again. It was gone.
The next morning, Diana made breakfast in the kitchen, shaking with anticipation for when her husband would awaken. She did not get an ounce of sleep after what had happened - she spent the night cleaning her vomit from the floor and sealing the door with superglue. She was so lost in thought, thinking about what had happened, that when a hand was placed on her shoulder, she nearly jumped out of her skin. Adam spun her around and pinned her against the stove. He firmly asked what she was doing in the basement last night.
How did he know? Diana wasn’t sure, but she quickly lied about going downstairs to change the temperature on the thermostat. His grip on her shoulders eased up a bit, and she exhaled in relief - before he raised his voice. She looked at him, shocked, as he yelled at her to never go down there without him again. He turned and left the kitchen and the house, slamming the front door as he left.
The next few weeks were uneasy. Diana walked on eggshells around Adam, who refused to even look at her. She didn’t know if he had anything to do with what she found, but she did not want to believe it. Even so, his family had owned the house since it was built - who else could it have been? She tried not to think about it, and didn’t even see friends anymore, in fear that she would accidentally reveal her secret. Even on nights where he was off work, they did not sleep together - she took the spare bedroom and locked the door. She didn’t get good sleep - but she slept through the night.
One night, she woke up in the pitch black once again. The being needed no introduction, standing by her bedside and waiting for her to awaken. It began walking towards the door again, and she followed without hesitation this time - whatever it had to show her, she was ready to see it. She found herself in the basement once again, as it simply stood there and looked at her. She couldn’t say anything to it, which was fine - she didn’t have anything to say.
Suddenly, the door to the basement flew open, the lights flicked on, and Adam flew down the stairs, angrier than she had ever seen him. As she tried to back up against the wall, he grabbed her arm and began screaming at her. As he yelled in her face, she had a choice to make, and she chose to push him away. He stumbled backwards to the edge of the shadows of the basement’s darkest corners, and in that instant, a rotting hand grabbed him and violently yanked him into the darkness. The lights cut out, as shrieks and squeals echoed from the corner. Just as suddenly as they started, though, they stopped. She stood there, completely emotionless, in the pitch dark.
The basement was entirely silent, as was the outside world - the crickets were quiet, there was no wind, and the radiator had stopped humming. The moonlight seeping into the room illuminated only the floor, where a pool of crimson blood slowly grew larger. Out of the shadows stepped the being, its wet, skinned feet slapping against the concrete. It did not move towards her - it just stared.
Then, out of the one eye it still had, it began to cry. It did not make noise, but teardrops rolled down its cheeks, and the sound of them falling off of its face and into the puddle of blood became the only noise in the room. At that moment, she finally understood.
The light flicked back on, and it disappeared. She looked into the corner where her husband was dragged, and found nothing. She ascended the stairs, still in her nightgown and slippers, and opened the front door, shutting it behind her as she left.
2024.05.28 20:49 ExcuseMeWTF50 Game Over: Part 9
Just under a day would follow since Max and 8-Bit's tenacious battle and in that time, SuperCity had become the very antithesis of what it had represented. A city intended to be a symbol of hope and prosperity for all to follow had become diluted into a desolate wasteland, isolated from the rest of the world. Gone were the brightly lit, welcoming streets that were commonplace and so was the hope of the people...
The city had been abandoned by nearly all of it's residents, most had saw the writing on the wall, leaving it to be occupied by heartless machines, controlled by a clairvoyant plague fed to their minds. For the very few that remained, any attempts at resistance would quickly be stomped out for this was a city of evil. With both Max and Surge out of the picture, it appeared things were going to stay that way for a long, long time...
A muscle car would soon pass into the city. It's blue and grey paint job appeared garish in contrast to its dull surroundings and the driver knew it. He didn't pay much mind to all the omens that passed him by. The abandoned bridge he had rode on, the lack of a city skyline, the fact that he was yet to see a single soul around, and chief among them was what he considered his best friend...
He had heard of at least some of the news; corrupted robots taking over what appeared to be an impenetrable city thanks to those who kept it safe. As usual, he tried his best to stay optimistic about the situation, hoping that everything had been blown way out of proportion. There was no way all this could possibly happen, or at least that's what he kept telling himself...
"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon...!" muttered the driver as he stepped out of his vehicle, splashing a shoe onto a rain-filled pothole, revealing none other than Brock. He took a few steps forward and once he had given himself the time to observe his surroundings, Brock was completely beside himself when his darting eyes caught just a glimpse of the devastation far off in the distance. It was something he had never seen before. Something straight out of a videogame, yet something beyond the work of fiction. Brock took a step back, nearly tripping over the pothole but for now at least... he maintained his composure.
Brock found himself standing in a city he once knew, something he could now consider uncharted territory. By now, the pouring rain had washed away all sense of direction for him. He looked into the distance once again, frantically rubbing his eyes, not willing to accept what his eyes were relaying back to him. Skyscrapers with massive gaping holes under a tainted moonlight. Not a single other light to illuminate the harrowing darkness was to be found aside from a massive purple beam that pierced the sky itself. It was something Brock couldn't make any sense of.
Uncertainty and unease now perfumed the air Brock had stood so perfectly still in for quite some time, completely stunned, and woeful, while more cold droplets continued to fall. Brock whipped out his phone and put it up to his ear, pacing in place, awaiting a response that never came. After some time had passed, Brock gave in, slinging the phone down with a sharp sigh, and then... pure silence. The rain had ended and it felt like time had stood still. That was when, suddenly, a red dot had crept up to his chest. By the time he had noticed and looked up, Brock was staring deep into the barrel of a distant revolver.
Brock's heart skipped a beat and for a mere moment, his entire body was frozen. That was until a rush of adrenaline had possessed him. Brock immediately sprang, dropping his phone in the process and inadvertently dodging a bullet sent toward him. Brock then clumsily slid over the hood of his car, seeking safety behind the vehicle as a plethora of bullets were fired all around while he curled away from shattering glass.
"Ey, ey, ey, w-we can talk this out!--We could can talk it out! Just--Just chill!" Brock continued to cower while two robots began to converge on his position. His pleas as a voice of reason had fallen on deaf ears. He pressed a button placed on his watch, one that displayed a blinking lightning bolt, eventually displaying no signal, only proving to dishearten Brock more. Dread was looming. Fear was at an all-time high. Time was running out fast and hope was scarce at best. Brock tried his very best to catch his breath, preparing for the very worst to come.
Brock's attackers maintained their fire right up until a single, thunderous boom roared, putting a swift end to the commotion. Nonetheless, Brock remained tense, far too afraid to take as little as a peak behind himself or speak for that matter. In the distance, he heard a voice break the unsettling silence. "Ooh, gotta say that one hurt to watch. Thanks for the target practice, guys."
Brock kept his head downward in his lap as he shivered non-stop. He could hear clanking spurs that would grow louder right up until it felt like something was looming over him.
"Heh. Someone's late to the party..." That voice, it was familiar to Brock. All of a sudden, most of that tension had plummeted and a feeling of comfort slowly filled his body. Brock rested his shoulders, opened his eyes, and began to slowly raise his head.
"...I understand, my invitation got lost in the mail too... Here. Think this belongs to you." Said Brock's protector as his newly cracked smartphone fell onto his lap. He picked his head up completely to see one dashing sheriff with a strikingly confident smirk on his face.
Brock: "...C-Colt?"
The smirk written on Colt's face only brightened. "The one and only. Unless there's someone 'round here's been slinging guns as sexily as I do of course."
Brock: "Well--"
Colt: "Yeah, I thought so. You look like someone who could use a hand, Brock."
Colt offered his hand to Brock, who was more than willing to accept. He stood up to see both of his attackers absolutely floored, each with a gaping bullet hole in their head, their exit wounds still sizzling. Soon after, beeping could be heard from behind. One of their heads would begin twitching, flashing between purple and green, signaling that this wasn't over. An annoyed groan broke from Colt's mouth. "Okay, looks like the show's not over... you back for seconds?"
The bot got back to it's feet as if it were possessed by yet another outside force. Colt readied a revolver, "...I can help with that." then fired at it once more effortlessly and turned back to Brock, anticipating a thud that never sounded off. In addition to the frantic twitching, the head sparked and a black liquid with a greenish hue began leaking from it while Colt fired another ineffective bullet. The head only spins around from the impact, leaving Colt to furrow his brows. "What the...?" The sparking only intensified until the head had popped like a balloon and out burst green, squirming, slimy parasitic ringlets soaked in that same liquid.
"Just when I thought I'd seen it all. Brock, you might wanna--*WOOAHH--" said Colt as those tendrils wrapped around his wrists and tossed him aside directly into Brock's windshield, cracking it and leaving one of his revolvers behind that landed beside Brock. It was now just him and the corrupted, mutated robot. Even with the opportunity to defend himself, Brock's entire body tensed up, his eyes racing between the metal monster and the revolver.
Brock took some steps back, tripping over himself, and was then held up by the neck. The parasite continued to squeeze as his life began slipping away. All Brock wanted to do was plead with his words but even at that, what he could muster were merely restrained gasps for air.
"Hey, wormy...!" Shouted Colt as a handful of stones hit Brock's attacker from behind, who dropped him, asserting all of it's attention back to Colt, writhing with pain yet still able to continue. "...Gonna take just a little more to keep me down." The steel monster's tendrils formed an axe head and swung it down toward Colt, who split his legs, narrowly managing to evade the attack.
Colt gulped and rolled off the hood of Brock's muscle car, reloading his single revolver with haste as the bot recovered. "Aaaaand gotcha." Colt slams at the hammer, releasing a flurry of bullets that would hit their target all over. Once again, the metal monster was hardly bothered by Colt's attack. The confident look on Colt's face quickly turned to one of mild panic. He looked down at his belt, only to be interrupted with his signature weapon of choice easily batted out his hand.
Colt flushed with a small amount of fear. "Any chance for a timeout--?" Colt ducks another attack and boots the bot in the chest, creating some distance between each other as Colt heads back for his revolver. Right when Colt retrieves the weapon, his ankle becomes entangled by his foe, causing him to once again drop the weapon, dragging him backward. By now both Colt and Brock were eye-to-eye with each other. Brock was still grounded, mesmerized, his knees weak with fear, seemingly unable to function.
"Brock, what're you doing...?" Asked Colt as he struggled, inching closer toward what appears to be certain doom. "I know I'm too pretty for this world but now's really not the time for admiration!"
"I-I--I can't just--What about you?"
"I can handle myself. Believe me..." Said Colt as he loosened his boot. "...So either zip it and get to running or uhh... okay, I guess we could all use some help every once in a while..."
Ever so timid, Brock looked down to Colt's other revolver and paused.
"Don't tell me you don't know how to use that..." Colt could already tell Brock's next words by the incompetence etched on his face. "--You're kidding." Colt manages to slip out of the parasite's grasp, losing a boot in the process. Brock held Colt's revolver, trembling, still unsure of himself. Colt picked up his boot and threw it at the tendrils, briefly stunning the creature and giving Colt the time to remove one of many abnormally large, silver bullets from his belt. "Y'know what, I'll take it from here."
Brock silently nodded and tosses Colt his revolver who then takes aim right at the core of the mutation. "Still hungry? Maybe try some of this!" The silver bullet blasts right through the parasite which lets out a high-pitched shriek as more of that viscous black fluid flows. The body of the bot fell to the ground, the creature still squirming around, still alive. Colt frantically stomps at it until it stops moving, getting some of that liquid on himself and finally putting an end to the conflict.
After calming himself, an exasperated Colt kept his eyes locked on what he had defeated, put off at the sight. "...Sheesh. I was almost a shiskabob, and my clothes...!" Colt kneeled, rubbing his finger on the black ink and putting it up to his nose. "gags No way that's oil. Guess Pam was right..." Colt said to himself before turning to Brock. "...Think I should lick it?"
Brock was still visibly struggling to catch his breath and Colt seemed to take no mind to that. "I'm just messing around, Brock, thought you'd know that by now. But anyway, on to more pressing matters... how's the hair?--Any out of place?--any more of whatever this stuff is on the face?--I gotta know."
Brock had finally caught his breath. "I think... I think you're good... What even was that?"
Colt shrugged. "Beats me. All that matters is whatever that thing was is done for and we're still standing. Ain't that right?"
"...Right."
"Right, right... never do that again by the way."
"...Do what--?"
Colt blew out the simmering smoke coming from his revolver. "Don't want to alarm ya but Christmas ain't gonna be here for another five months. What exactly were you waiting for--? Maybe I'm giving you just a bit too much credit here but you've given me so many kickings in Shotgun Shootout that I thought maybe all that time staring at a screen would translate well into the real world... still want another rematch by the way."
Brock solemnly smiled. "You just don't know when to give up, do you? You really wanna get your ass handed to ya for... jeez, I lost count too."
Colt: "--Shush, sh--sh, sh, sh... sh! ...Okay? Those were all flukes and you know it. Besides, I hate shotguns. Got one too many reasons to hate 'em back home and now there's this. Where's the skill in using them anyway? No wonder why you struggled to use one of these..." Colt eyed his revolver and yawned. "...Anyway, long time, no see, huh? How's the day been treating ya? Bet it's been goin' great so far."
Brock: "I'm uh... you know, doing fine. As fine as I can be after... that."
Colt: "Heh, y'know a "Thank you, Colt, you sexy gunslinger, you." would be nice for a change..."
Brock sighed. "...Thanks, Colt."
Colt tilted his head and smiled obnoxiously. "Come on. You can say the rest. I mean, you still kinda owe me one for fending off those punks from Retropolis and that's the least you can do..." An awkward silence had been cast over the two. "...Okay fine, just a "thank you" will do."
"So, um..." Brock scratched his head. "You got any clue what's going on here?"
Colt: "Psh, no time to explain. From what I've heard so far it's a loooooong story anyway. So, ya done with the questions 'cause I got a whole lotta of my own so if you'll excuse me... I'm here to save the day and look good doing it. Now why are you here?"
Brock would keep quiet, a little uneasy about himself as usual. Feeling a little slighted, Colt crossed his arms, looking back at Brock's ruined ride. "Eh, it's only a scratch but hey, if ya really want me to, I can just help you right on out the city."
Brock: "No, no--I... I ain't leaving, not yet."
Colt raised an eyebrow. "Well, that's certainly a choice--a stupid one but still definitely a choice. Here to help with the load, huh? That's not to say I need it of course."
Brock looked off into the distance."I guess that's one way to put it..."
Colt scoffed. "Don't mean to judge but judging by how you handled your little situation back there... I take it you didn't bring anything for self-defense or uh, any defending for that matter..."
Brock scratched his head nervously. "Yeah..."
"Heh. Nice going, Brock. So... what, you can't afford a good ol' fashioned six shooter? Didn't realize your arcade was going out of business, what happened to you lighting up the dancefloor as a DJ?" Colt asked with a load of sarcasm in his tongue.
Brock: "I'm hoping you know not every problem can be solved with a gun, Colt."
Colt rolled his eyes. "What're you, my mother? Of course, I know that..."
Brock: "Oh. Great. Nice to know we're on the same pa--"
Colt: "Which is why I use two. Now I want you to consider this: would you rather get put six feet under by some no-name junk buckets or dish out some butt-kickings yourself with one of these bad boys?" [Spins revolver] "Answer's pretty obvious, ain't it?"
Brock once again wouldn't answer Colt.
Colt: "...Right? Look, I'm not saying to bust out a whole friggin' rocket launcher or something but, come on now."
"Okay, okay... maybe you got a point..." Brock chuckled his nervousness off, plunging both of his hands into his pockets. "But, umm, I guess I also have something to let off my chest. I'm here for a reason and it's probably not one you're thinking of..."
Colt: "Yeah, no kidding. Must be one helluva of a reason to bring you to this place too... ah screw it, I'll bite. What really is it that brings you here? There are easier ways to kill yourself, y'know."
Brock chuckled nervously then rolled his eyes with a level of snark that matched Colt. "Just looking for a friend--maybe friend(s) would be the better word."
"Good thing you got me." Intrigued, Colt tilted his head forward with an enthralled eyebrow raise. "This friend got a name?"
Brock: "Oh yeah... It's... it's..."
Colt: "Come on, spit it out."
Brock: "...it's 8-Bit."
Colt: "...Oh. I'm sure he's doing just mighty fine right about now. After all, he's totally a bounty hunter sent from space. He might've told you that maybe one or a billion times."
Brock: "Err, that's Rico and yeah, you're right. You telling me you don't remember 8-Bit? You kinda spilled some soda on him that time you got just a little too heated on Project Laser..."
Colt: "Really?--Oh. Yeah. Think you're starting to ring a bell..." A smile cracked from Colt's mouth. "I'll admit it was a little funny watching 'em squirm around like there were bees in his circuits..."
Colt began snickering as his eyes drifted away from Brock, who wasn't exactly approving of Colt's tone. "...But, sorry."
Brock: "All good. Need to keep jogging that memory of yours? He's about this tall, on the stumpier side of things... wears these blue Converses, pretty adorable too, definitely no vest-- trust me, I couldn't get him to wear one if I tried. His tracker's led me to the city, the thing is--"
Brock stopped himself after he noticed that Colt had grown awfully silent. He just stood there, looking like he was possibly hiding something. Brock himself had grown curious.
Brock: "...It's kinda jammed. Did... did I say something--?"
Colt: "Yeah, actually. Good thing Rico didn't tag along with ya... okay--look, I'll just break the news to ya right away. I don't think you're gonna be finding your little buddy anytime soon. At least in the way you remember him..."
Brock: "For real? Wha--Why?"
Colt: "Huh. I guess there is time to explain. You're barking up the wrong tree here but, apparently, so don't shoot the messenger, the little guy's the one behind all of..." Colt paused, looking back over to the robots he put out of commission. "...this."
Brock batted his eyes in disbelief. "I know you like to mess around and stuff but I don't think now's the time to be joking."
Colt: "Wish I was. Really do. Didn't realize you and a certain starfish had much more in common because clearly, you've been living under a rock. Haven't you heard of the news?"
Brock: "Yeah--kinda--but I ain't hearing that noise. He wouldn't do this. He wouldn't do any of this."
Colt: "Well you better get those ears checked. Felt like his vibe was always off whenever I was around him. You sure he wasn't planning to go all goblin mode or something when you first found him?"
Brock: "N-No?! Sure he's been a little more quiet than usual for the past week or so but--"
Colt: "What're you even gonna do when you see him, huh? sideyes revolver smugly I know what I will... when the time's right I'll definitely be giving that thing what it deserves."
Brock: "Thing? That's my friend--!"
Colt: "Was. He was your friend..."
Brock kept his silence, giving himself much-needed time to gather his thoughts. "...If, and that's a big if, what you say is true... I'm gonna get him back. Something's gotta be controlling him."
Colt burst out laughing. "--Hahahahahaha--you're, breaths in you're... continues laughing ...you're serious?" Colt continued with his amused laughter as Brock only appeared more and more annoyed.
Brock crossed his arms as the laughter went on. "You done?" Colt's laughter died down a bit. "Hold on... just--just gimme a moment... laughs ...man, sorry, I had to get that outta my system. Hit me with that again, you wanna do what now?"
Brock: "I'm bringing him home. Don't matter how, I just want my friend back."
Colt: "Whew, you're lucky I pity you. So how exactly do you plan on doing that? Still losing that oh-so-good circulation to your brain?--Have you had a little too much to drink? I know that's rich coming from a guy who proposed to a mannequin but if both Surge and what's-her-face couldn't take 'em out, what chance do you have?
Brock froze up. "...What?"
"Just go home kid, this is one game you'll never win."
Brock: "I--"
Colt: "You heard me, Brock. Go home, kid."
Brock: "...You're just four ye--"
"Yeah, yeah." Ragged Colt, who turned and began strutting away, retrieving his other revolver, sticking out two fingers and waving them as a goodbye. "We'll do that rematch sometime later. Now if you'll excuse me, I got a city to save on my--"
"Wait...!" Colt had stopped in his tracks, still turned away from Brock.
"...What about Max and Surge?"
Colt turned his head slightly toward Brock. "So that's her name... you tellin' me you don't know?"
"Know what...?!"
Colt's face turned from confidently smug to somewhat remorseful. "...They're gone."
Sorrow had touched Brock's heart. Once again, he took a step back, completely stunned, unable to cobble together any words.
Colt folded his arms. "Something wrong?--Need a pinch or two? Maybe some water over the face?"
"...S...S-So they're--?"
Colt: "Yeah. Probably. If you wanna go down that rabbit hole then be my guest. Just know you'll never climb out of it. They haven't been seen in over a day now. I dunno what else to tell ya but what do you expect out of a glorified tin can and an impulsive rookie during the apocalypse?"
A cold shiver ran down Brock's spine as Colt continued. "...If I was in their place things would be peachy right about now, believe me. Now we've all been left high and dry and guess who's fault that is. Hope ya know 8-Bit's not gonna stop until this is far, far worse..."
Wrenched by guilt and despair, Brock couldn't help but turn away from Colt. He couldn't bear looking him in the eye.
"...Which is why we're gonna stop him, right?"
Brock looked up to see Colt with a hopeful, earnest smile on his face. His breathing had steadied and Brock nodded his head a handful of times. "...Right. Right. I just wanna talk with him."
"Sorry. Not in the job description. You said something about a tracker, yes?"
"...Yeah."
"Perfect. You won't have to worry about it. I'm sure we can get it fixed."
"We?"
"Yeah. We. You'll see what I'm talking about later. In fact, I got a whole lotta stuff to show you, especially with what 8-Bit's done..."
"I'll... I'll see it when I believe it, Colt." Said Brock, not much confidence coming from his mouth.
Colt scoffed hard. "Oh, you will when you're staring right into the stuff of your nightmares. Can't say I didn't say "I told ya so" when that happens. But hey--if it makes you feel any better I'm almost as confused as you are. Some fun-sized arcade machine? He's responsible for the mess I gotta clean up...?" Colt scoffed again. "Give me a break..."
All of a sudden, that silence had returned yet again. Colt sat on some nearby pavement, his hands clasped together, his face etched with a subtle amount of remorse while Brock was left to observe.
The rest of Colt's bitterness subsided. "...Sorry I sort of blew a gasket back there. I... exhales things have been so rough lately. This... all of this, it happened so fast... I couldn't help as much as I could've. I Don't want you or anyone else that hasn't already to get hurt. I know you wanna help your friend and I get that, but I seriously can't hammer this home enough. Trust me. I've been in this game long enough to know there's next to no hope of getting the little guy the help he needs. That's to say he even can be lended help, aside from a few bullet holes to the screen, of course..."
Brock: "It's... it's cool. Apology accepted. Maybe you're right, I am a little outta my depth but I gotta do what I can. If 8-Bit really is outta control here, I gotta do something about it. Gotta right some wrongs."
Colt: "That's the spirit but... yeah--you know what?" Colt got back up. "...As much as I'd love to blast more and more of these things to pieces 'til the sun comes back up, we should probably just pick up the slack before more of them come out to play--for your sake I mean, not mine."
With a mystery ignited, Brock nodded while Colt brushed passed him. Brock fails to follow, his mind still occupied by 8-Bit, by Max and Surge, by all the unanswered questions surrounding them, prompting Colt to turn back and raise an eyebrow.
Colt: "So, you comin' with, or are you just gonna enjoy the view? Or maybe, just maybe, the second thoughts are finally kicking in, hmm? To be honest, I wouldn't blame ya." Colt extended his hand into the air, signaling that the rain had returned. "Aw, my hair!--Have you made up your mind? I don't--okay well I sorta do have all day but think of my hair!"
"...Oh--uh--y-yeah, I'm comin' with, it's just..." Brock looked back over to his muscle car and sighed heavily. "...Oh man...! I guess it is still usable. Are we not taking my ride?"
Colt: "Yeah, no. You're pretty much begging for trouble riding around in that thing going forward. Best to keep things slow and steady for now so come on, let's get this show on the road already. We've got things to do."
Brock sighed lightly. "Okay..."
Colt: "Don't think you'll have to worry about a parking ticket--so hey, there's that. Now remember, this face? He's your guardian angel if you couldn't tell, and this place? Probably gonna eat ya alive if you're not careful so make sure you stick to me like glue... d-don't actually do that, I'm as uncomfortable as is already ."
Brock: "I think I got it..."
Colt: "Alright then, 'bout time we got going..."
submitted by ExcuseMeWTF50 to brawlstarswriters [link] [comments]
The city had been abandoned by nearly all of it's residents, most had saw the writing on the wall, leaving it to be occupied by heartless machines, controlled by a clairvoyant plague fed to their minds. For the very few that remained, any attempts at resistance would quickly be stomped out for this was a city of evil. With both Max and Surge out of the picture, it appeared things were going to stay that way for a long, long time...
A muscle car would soon pass into the city. It's blue and grey paint job appeared garish in contrast to its dull surroundings and the driver knew it. He didn't pay much mind to all the omens that passed him by. The abandoned bridge he had rode on, the lack of a city skyline, the fact that he was yet to see a single soul around, and chief among them was what he considered his best friend...
He had heard of at least some of the news; corrupted robots taking over what appeared to be an impenetrable city thanks to those who kept it safe. As usual, he tried his best to stay optimistic about the situation, hoping that everything had been blown way out of proportion. There was no way all this could possibly happen, or at least that's what he kept telling himself...
"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon...!" muttered the driver as he stepped out of his vehicle, splashing a shoe onto a rain-filled pothole, revealing none other than Brock. He took a few steps forward and once he had given himself the time to observe his surroundings, Brock was completely beside himself when his darting eyes caught just a glimpse of the devastation far off in the distance. It was something he had never seen before. Something straight out of a videogame, yet something beyond the work of fiction. Brock took a step back, nearly tripping over the pothole but for now at least... he maintained his composure.
Brock found himself standing in a city he once knew, something he could now consider uncharted territory. By now, the pouring rain had washed away all sense of direction for him. He looked into the distance once again, frantically rubbing his eyes, not willing to accept what his eyes were relaying back to him. Skyscrapers with massive gaping holes under a tainted moonlight. Not a single other light to illuminate the harrowing darkness was to be found aside from a massive purple beam that pierced the sky itself. It was something Brock couldn't make any sense of.
Uncertainty and unease now perfumed the air Brock had stood so perfectly still in for quite some time, completely stunned, and woeful, while more cold droplets continued to fall. Brock whipped out his phone and put it up to his ear, pacing in place, awaiting a response that never came. After some time had passed, Brock gave in, slinging the phone down with a sharp sigh, and then... pure silence. The rain had ended and it felt like time had stood still. That was when, suddenly, a red dot had crept up to his chest. By the time he had noticed and looked up, Brock was staring deep into the barrel of a distant revolver.
Brock's heart skipped a beat and for a mere moment, his entire body was frozen. That was until a rush of adrenaline had possessed him. Brock immediately sprang, dropping his phone in the process and inadvertently dodging a bullet sent toward him. Brock then clumsily slid over the hood of his car, seeking safety behind the vehicle as a plethora of bullets were fired all around while he curled away from shattering glass.
"Ey, ey, ey, w-we can talk this out!--We could can talk it out! Just--Just chill!" Brock continued to cower while two robots began to converge on his position. His pleas as a voice of reason had fallen on deaf ears. He pressed a button placed on his watch, one that displayed a blinking lightning bolt, eventually displaying no signal, only proving to dishearten Brock more. Dread was looming. Fear was at an all-time high. Time was running out fast and hope was scarce at best. Brock tried his very best to catch his breath, preparing for the very worst to come.
Brock's attackers maintained their fire right up until a single, thunderous boom roared, putting a swift end to the commotion. Nonetheless, Brock remained tense, far too afraid to take as little as a peak behind himself or speak for that matter. In the distance, he heard a voice break the unsettling silence. "Ooh, gotta say that one hurt to watch. Thanks for the target practice, guys."
Brock kept his head downward in his lap as he shivered non-stop. He could hear clanking spurs that would grow louder right up until it felt like something was looming over him.
"Heh. Someone's late to the party..." That voice, it was familiar to Brock. All of a sudden, most of that tension had plummeted and a feeling of comfort slowly filled his body. Brock rested his shoulders, opened his eyes, and began to slowly raise his head.
"...I understand, my invitation got lost in the mail too... Here. Think this belongs to you." Said Brock's protector as his newly cracked smartphone fell onto his lap. He picked his head up completely to see one dashing sheriff with a strikingly confident smirk on his face.
Brock: "...C-Colt?"
The smirk written on Colt's face only brightened. "The one and only. Unless there's someone 'round here's been slinging guns as sexily as I do of course."
Brock: "Well--"
Colt: "Yeah, I thought so. You look like someone who could use a hand, Brock."
Colt offered his hand to Brock, who was more than willing to accept. He stood up to see both of his attackers absolutely floored, each with a gaping bullet hole in their head, their exit wounds still sizzling. Soon after, beeping could be heard from behind. One of their heads would begin twitching, flashing between purple and green, signaling that this wasn't over. An annoyed groan broke from Colt's mouth. "Okay, looks like the show's not over... you back for seconds?"
The bot got back to it's feet as if it were possessed by yet another outside force. Colt readied a revolver, "...I can help with that." then fired at it once more effortlessly and turned back to Brock, anticipating a thud that never sounded off. In addition to the frantic twitching, the head sparked and a black liquid with a greenish hue began leaking from it while Colt fired another ineffective bullet. The head only spins around from the impact, leaving Colt to furrow his brows. "What the...?" The sparking only intensified until the head had popped like a balloon and out burst green, squirming, slimy parasitic ringlets soaked in that same liquid.
"Just when I thought I'd seen it all. Brock, you might wanna--*WOOAHH--" said Colt as those tendrils wrapped around his wrists and tossed him aside directly into Brock's windshield, cracking it and leaving one of his revolvers behind that landed beside Brock. It was now just him and the corrupted, mutated robot. Even with the opportunity to defend himself, Brock's entire body tensed up, his eyes racing between the metal monster and the revolver.
Brock took some steps back, tripping over himself, and was then held up by the neck. The parasite continued to squeeze as his life began slipping away. All Brock wanted to do was plead with his words but even at that, what he could muster were merely restrained gasps for air.
"Hey, wormy...!" Shouted Colt as a handful of stones hit Brock's attacker from behind, who dropped him, asserting all of it's attention back to Colt, writhing with pain yet still able to continue. "...Gonna take just a little more to keep me down." The steel monster's tendrils formed an axe head and swung it down toward Colt, who split his legs, narrowly managing to evade the attack.
Colt gulped and rolled off the hood of Brock's muscle car, reloading his single revolver with haste as the bot recovered. "Aaaaand gotcha." Colt slams at the hammer, releasing a flurry of bullets that would hit their target all over. Once again, the metal monster was hardly bothered by Colt's attack. The confident look on Colt's face quickly turned to one of mild panic. He looked down at his belt, only to be interrupted with his signature weapon of choice easily batted out his hand.
Colt flushed with a small amount of fear. "Any chance for a timeout--?" Colt ducks another attack and boots the bot in the chest, creating some distance between each other as Colt heads back for his revolver. Right when Colt retrieves the weapon, his ankle becomes entangled by his foe, causing him to once again drop the weapon, dragging him backward. By now both Colt and Brock were eye-to-eye with each other. Brock was still grounded, mesmerized, his knees weak with fear, seemingly unable to function.
"Brock, what're you doing...?" Asked Colt as he struggled, inching closer toward what appears to be certain doom. "I know I'm too pretty for this world but now's really not the time for admiration!"
"I-I--I can't just--What about you?"
"I can handle myself. Believe me..." Said Colt as he loosened his boot. "...So either zip it and get to running or uhh... okay, I guess we could all use some help every once in a while..."
Ever so timid, Brock looked down to Colt's other revolver and paused.
"Don't tell me you don't know how to use that..." Colt could already tell Brock's next words by the incompetence etched on his face. "--You're kidding." Colt manages to slip out of the parasite's grasp, losing a boot in the process. Brock held Colt's revolver, trembling, still unsure of himself. Colt picked up his boot and threw it at the tendrils, briefly stunning the creature and giving Colt the time to remove one of many abnormally large, silver bullets from his belt. "Y'know what, I'll take it from here."
Brock silently nodded and tosses Colt his revolver who then takes aim right at the core of the mutation. "Still hungry? Maybe try some of this!" The silver bullet blasts right through the parasite which lets out a high-pitched shriek as more of that viscous black fluid flows. The body of the bot fell to the ground, the creature still squirming around, still alive. Colt frantically stomps at it until it stops moving, getting some of that liquid on himself and finally putting an end to the conflict.
After calming himself, an exasperated Colt kept his eyes locked on what he had defeated, put off at the sight. "...Sheesh. I was almost a shiskabob, and my clothes...!" Colt kneeled, rubbing his finger on the black ink and putting it up to his nose. "gags No way that's oil. Guess Pam was right..." Colt said to himself before turning to Brock. "...Think I should lick it?"
Brock was still visibly struggling to catch his breath and Colt seemed to take no mind to that. "I'm just messing around, Brock, thought you'd know that by now. But anyway, on to more pressing matters... how's the hair?--Any out of place?--any more of whatever this stuff is on the face?--I gotta know."
Brock had finally caught his breath. "I think... I think you're good... What even was that?"
Colt shrugged. "Beats me. All that matters is whatever that thing was is done for and we're still standing. Ain't that right?"
"...Right."
"Right, right... never do that again by the way."
"...Do what--?"
Colt blew out the simmering smoke coming from his revolver. "Don't want to alarm ya but Christmas ain't gonna be here for another five months. What exactly were you waiting for--? Maybe I'm giving you just a bit too much credit here but you've given me so many kickings in Shotgun Shootout that I thought maybe all that time staring at a screen would translate well into the real world... still want another rematch by the way."
Brock solemnly smiled. "You just don't know when to give up, do you? You really wanna get your ass handed to ya for... jeez, I lost count too."
Colt: "--Shush, sh--sh, sh, sh... sh! ...Okay? Those were all flukes and you know it. Besides, I hate shotguns. Got one too many reasons to hate 'em back home and now there's this. Where's the skill in using them anyway? No wonder why you struggled to use one of these..." Colt eyed his revolver and yawned. "...Anyway, long time, no see, huh? How's the day been treating ya? Bet it's been goin' great so far."
Brock: "I'm uh... you know, doing fine. As fine as I can be after... that."
Colt: "Heh, y'know a "Thank you, Colt, you sexy gunslinger, you." would be nice for a change..."
Brock sighed. "...Thanks, Colt."
Colt tilted his head and smiled obnoxiously. "Come on. You can say the rest. I mean, you still kinda owe me one for fending off those punks from Retropolis and that's the least you can do..." An awkward silence had been cast over the two. "...Okay fine, just a "thank you" will do."
"So, um..." Brock scratched his head. "You got any clue what's going on here?"
Colt: "Psh, no time to explain. From what I've heard so far it's a loooooong story anyway. So, ya done with the questions 'cause I got a whole lotta of my own so if you'll excuse me... I'm here to save the day and look good doing it. Now why are you here?"
Brock would keep quiet, a little uneasy about himself as usual. Feeling a little slighted, Colt crossed his arms, looking back at Brock's ruined ride. "Eh, it's only a scratch but hey, if ya really want me to, I can just help you right on out the city."
Brock: "No, no--I... I ain't leaving, not yet."
Colt raised an eyebrow. "Well, that's certainly a choice--a stupid one but still definitely a choice. Here to help with the load, huh? That's not to say I need it of course."
Brock looked off into the distance."I guess that's one way to put it..."
Colt scoffed. "Don't mean to judge but judging by how you handled your little situation back there... I take it you didn't bring anything for self-defense or uh, any defending for that matter..."
Brock scratched his head nervously. "Yeah..."
"Heh. Nice going, Brock. So... what, you can't afford a good ol' fashioned six shooter? Didn't realize your arcade was going out of business, what happened to you lighting up the dancefloor as a DJ?" Colt asked with a load of sarcasm in his tongue.
Brock: "I'm hoping you know not every problem can be solved with a gun, Colt."
Colt rolled his eyes. "What're you, my mother? Of course, I know that..."
Brock: "Oh. Great. Nice to know we're on the same pa--"
Colt: "Which is why I use two. Now I want you to consider this: would you rather get put six feet under by some no-name junk buckets or dish out some butt-kickings yourself with one of these bad boys?" [Spins revolver] "Answer's pretty obvious, ain't it?"
Brock once again wouldn't answer Colt.
Colt: "...Right? Look, I'm not saying to bust out a whole friggin' rocket launcher or something but, come on now."
"Okay, okay... maybe you got a point..." Brock chuckled his nervousness off, plunging both of his hands into his pockets. "But, umm, I guess I also have something to let off my chest. I'm here for a reason and it's probably not one you're thinking of..."
Colt: "Yeah, no kidding. Must be one helluva of a reason to bring you to this place too... ah screw it, I'll bite. What really is it that brings you here? There are easier ways to kill yourself, y'know."
Brock chuckled nervously then rolled his eyes with a level of snark that matched Colt. "Just looking for a friend--maybe friend(s) would be the better word."
"Good thing you got me." Intrigued, Colt tilted his head forward with an enthralled eyebrow raise. "This friend got a name?"
Brock: "Oh yeah... It's... it's..."
Colt: "Come on, spit it out."
Brock: "...it's 8-Bit."
Colt: "...Oh. I'm sure he's doing just mighty fine right about now. After all, he's totally a bounty hunter sent from space. He might've told you that maybe one or a billion times."
Brock: "Err, that's Rico and yeah, you're right. You telling me you don't remember 8-Bit? You kinda spilled some soda on him that time you got just a little too heated on Project Laser..."
Colt: "Really?--Oh. Yeah. Think you're starting to ring a bell..." A smile cracked from Colt's mouth. "I'll admit it was a little funny watching 'em squirm around like there were bees in his circuits..."
Colt began snickering as his eyes drifted away from Brock, who wasn't exactly approving of Colt's tone. "...But, sorry."
Brock: "All good. Need to keep jogging that memory of yours? He's about this tall, on the stumpier side of things... wears these blue Converses, pretty adorable too, definitely no vest-- trust me, I couldn't get him to wear one if I tried. His tracker's led me to the city, the thing is--"
Brock stopped himself after he noticed that Colt had grown awfully silent. He just stood there, looking like he was possibly hiding something. Brock himself had grown curious.
Brock: "...It's kinda jammed. Did... did I say something--?"
Colt: "Yeah, actually. Good thing Rico didn't tag along with ya... okay--look, I'll just break the news to ya right away. I don't think you're gonna be finding your little buddy anytime soon. At least in the way you remember him..."
Brock: "For real? Wha--Why?"
Colt: "Huh. I guess there is time to explain. You're barking up the wrong tree here but, apparently, so don't shoot the messenger, the little guy's the one behind all of..." Colt paused, looking back over to the robots he put out of commission. "...this."
Brock batted his eyes in disbelief. "I know you like to mess around and stuff but I don't think now's the time to be joking."
Colt: "Wish I was. Really do. Didn't realize you and a certain starfish had much more in common because clearly, you've been living under a rock. Haven't you heard of the news?"
Brock: "Yeah--kinda--but I ain't hearing that noise. He wouldn't do this. He wouldn't do any of this."
Colt: "Well you better get those ears checked. Felt like his vibe was always off whenever I was around him. You sure he wasn't planning to go all goblin mode or something when you first found him?"
Brock: "N-No?! Sure he's been a little more quiet than usual for the past week or so but--"
Colt: "What're you even gonna do when you see him, huh? sideyes revolver smugly I know what I will... when the time's right I'll definitely be giving that thing what it deserves."
Brock: "Thing? That's my friend--!"
Colt: "Was. He was your friend..."
Brock kept his silence, giving himself much-needed time to gather his thoughts. "...If, and that's a big if, what you say is true... I'm gonna get him back. Something's gotta be controlling him."
Colt burst out laughing. "--Hahahahahaha--you're, breaths in you're... continues laughing ...you're serious?" Colt continued with his amused laughter as Brock only appeared more and more annoyed.
Brock crossed his arms as the laughter went on. "You done?" Colt's laughter died down a bit. "Hold on... just--just gimme a moment... laughs ...man, sorry, I had to get that outta my system. Hit me with that again, you wanna do what now?"
Brock: "I'm bringing him home. Don't matter how, I just want my friend back."
Colt: "Whew, you're lucky I pity you. So how exactly do you plan on doing that? Still losing that oh-so-good circulation to your brain?--Have you had a little too much to drink? I know that's rich coming from a guy who proposed to a mannequin but if both Surge and what's-her-face couldn't take 'em out, what chance do you have?
Brock froze up. "...What?"
"Just go home kid, this is one game you'll never win."
Brock: "I--"
Colt: "You heard me, Brock. Go home, kid."
Brock: "...You're just four ye--"
"Yeah, yeah." Ragged Colt, who turned and began strutting away, retrieving his other revolver, sticking out two fingers and waving them as a goodbye. "We'll do that rematch sometime later. Now if you'll excuse me, I got a city to save on my--"
"Wait...!" Colt had stopped in his tracks, still turned away from Brock.
"...What about Max and Surge?"
Colt turned his head slightly toward Brock. "So that's her name... you tellin' me you don't know?"
"Know what...?!"
Colt's face turned from confidently smug to somewhat remorseful. "...They're gone."
Sorrow had touched Brock's heart. Once again, he took a step back, completely stunned, unable to cobble together any words.
Colt folded his arms. "Something wrong?--Need a pinch or two? Maybe some water over the face?"
"...S...S-So they're--?"
Colt: "Yeah. Probably. If you wanna go down that rabbit hole then be my guest. Just know you'll never climb out of it. They haven't been seen in over a day now. I dunno what else to tell ya but what do you expect out of a glorified tin can and an impulsive rookie during the apocalypse?"
A cold shiver ran down Brock's spine as Colt continued. "...If I was in their place things would be peachy right about now, believe me. Now we've all been left high and dry and guess who's fault that is. Hope ya know 8-Bit's not gonna stop until this is far, far worse..."
Wrenched by guilt and despair, Brock couldn't help but turn away from Colt. He couldn't bear looking him in the eye.
"...Which is why we're gonna stop him, right?"
Brock looked up to see Colt with a hopeful, earnest smile on his face. His breathing had steadied and Brock nodded his head a handful of times. "...Right. Right. I just wanna talk with him."
"Sorry. Not in the job description. You said something about a tracker, yes?"
"...Yeah."
"Perfect. You won't have to worry about it. I'm sure we can get it fixed."
"We?"
"Yeah. We. You'll see what I'm talking about later. In fact, I got a whole lotta stuff to show you, especially with what 8-Bit's done..."
"I'll... I'll see it when I believe it, Colt." Said Brock, not much confidence coming from his mouth.
Colt scoffed hard. "Oh, you will when you're staring right into the stuff of your nightmares. Can't say I didn't say "I told ya so" when that happens. But hey--if it makes you feel any better I'm almost as confused as you are. Some fun-sized arcade machine? He's responsible for the mess I gotta clean up...?" Colt scoffed again. "Give me a break..."
All of a sudden, that silence had returned yet again. Colt sat on some nearby pavement, his hands clasped together, his face etched with a subtle amount of remorse while Brock was left to observe.
The rest of Colt's bitterness subsided. "...Sorry I sort of blew a gasket back there. I... exhales things have been so rough lately. This... all of this, it happened so fast... I couldn't help as much as I could've. I Don't want you or anyone else that hasn't already to get hurt. I know you wanna help your friend and I get that, but I seriously can't hammer this home enough. Trust me. I've been in this game long enough to know there's next to no hope of getting the little guy the help he needs. That's to say he even can be lended help, aside from a few bullet holes to the screen, of course..."
Brock: "It's... it's cool. Apology accepted. Maybe you're right, I am a little outta my depth but I gotta do what I can. If 8-Bit really is outta control here, I gotta do something about it. Gotta right some wrongs."
Colt: "That's the spirit but... yeah--you know what?" Colt got back up. "...As much as I'd love to blast more and more of these things to pieces 'til the sun comes back up, we should probably just pick up the slack before more of them come out to play--for your sake I mean, not mine."
With a mystery ignited, Brock nodded while Colt brushed passed him. Brock fails to follow, his mind still occupied by 8-Bit, by Max and Surge, by all the unanswered questions surrounding them, prompting Colt to turn back and raise an eyebrow.
Colt: "So, you comin' with, or are you just gonna enjoy the view? Or maybe, just maybe, the second thoughts are finally kicking in, hmm? To be honest, I wouldn't blame ya." Colt extended his hand into the air, signaling that the rain had returned. "Aw, my hair!--Have you made up your mind? I don't--okay well I sorta do have all day but think of my hair!"
"...Oh--uh--y-yeah, I'm comin' with, it's just..." Brock looked back over to his muscle car and sighed heavily. "...Oh man...! I guess it is still usable. Are we not taking my ride?"
Colt: "Yeah, no. You're pretty much begging for trouble riding around in that thing going forward. Best to keep things slow and steady for now so come on, let's get this show on the road already. We've got things to do."
Brock sighed lightly. "Okay..."
Colt: "Don't think you'll have to worry about a parking ticket--so hey, there's that. Now remember, this face? He's your guardian angel if you couldn't tell, and this place? Probably gonna eat ya alive if you're not careful so make sure you stick to me like glue... d-don't actually do that, I'm as uncomfortable as is already ."
Brock: "I think I got it..."
Colt: "Alright then, 'bout time we got going..."
2024.05.28 19:51 A6ap3 Appreciation of RM's Right Place, Wrong People
It's been so long since I did any analysis of RM's music, the last time I was fifteen and so so depressed. RM has grown as an artist while I grew as a person, in a way it's so personal that every time he comes up with new music, even if it's been long since I really liked BTS music, I just have this ich in my fingers asking me to write down my thoughts. With Right Place, Wrong People I just can't hold myself, Indigo almost made me write my thoughts down in this sub (because that album was made for me, an art theory nerd) but this new album???? Man, I've got things to say. So, sorry for babbling, here are my thoughts:
Before talking about the content, lyrics, and general thoughts, I need to mention and study all the great artists working with RM on this album. First and foremost, San Yawn from Balming Tiger literally could be called the co-creator of this album. Another member of Balming Tiger, bj wnjn, also appears in the credits of a few songs. In the chorus in Dodomachi, you can see the best example of his influence because he's the one who sings it. The sounds, gimmicks, and the way most of the songs in the album are pierced together really feel like Balming Tiger, if anyone is a fan of them you know what I mean. Check them out, they just recently came out with an incredible album: January Never Dies. And for some song recommendations, if you really liked the theme in LOST! in Right Place Wrong People, you will love UP!.
Some other great artists work in production, OHHYUK (from HYUKOH) is the producer of Come back to me, and it really shows. I desperately ask you to go listen to HYUKOH's albums if you liked that song cause, man, that song could have fooled me if you told me it was theirs. Mokyo too, recently has been working with a lot of artists and coming out with really creative stuff, so please check him out (and go listen to Vampire, that song is just pure perfection). Going back to Come back to me, Kuo from Sunset Rollercoaster worked in it too and the guitar in the song really shows it. Check Sunset Rollercoaster too, they deserve a lot more love from the k-rock lovers. Supremeboy, even if he only appears in (I think) the credits of out of love, deserves always the love and respect from old fans of RM, so shout out to him too.
The really rich mixture of sounds and genres in the album really makes me think once again of Indigo, but this time it feels so different. In Indigo RM took a lot of inspiration from the sound of this artist but the message was less introspective in his lyrics than in Right Place Wrong People, now the mix with this artist really mixes so deeply the introspection in the lyrics with the sound. And really, the appreciation we should have for those who worked with RM in the production and writing of the album should be pointed out in bold letters and neon, cause it's fundamental to understand the whole meaning and message of the album, to the understand it's conception.
In the album, RM talks primarily about how he's perceived and how that affects the person he's come to be. It's a beautiful introspection on how others interact and convince him, and how that has affected him, and how he interacts with people. On the one hand, you can see the real symbolism that is the mix of RM's introspection with the people he collaborated with. Most people only look up to the features when we talk about the mix of different artists sounds, but in Right Place Wrong People, the symbiosis of RM's compositions it's with those that he's featuring and with those that work with him in production. See Dodomachi, he's featuring Little Smizs (I promise you I was shocked to see he was collaborating with her, go check out her last album Drop 7, it's GOLD), he collaborates and mixes his sound and lyrics with hers perfectly, but at the same time it's in the production and the choruses where what shines it's the work of bj wnjn, with his distinctive singing and those lyrics heavy where we can hear a more hollow and dark feeling in the "Friend, let's dance here", really showing the true heaviness of dislike for the life of partying he's been pushed to by those called friends. the mix of sounds, the collaboration of other people's voices (this time the right people in the right place) it's what gives the extra layers and deepness to RM's new album.
On the other hand, RM's introspection feels old and comforting for an old fan. I remember when Mono came out and how much I loved (and I still love) Seoul. Listening to this new, older, Namjoon I can't help but see in this new tone the comeback of the idea he presented once:
PD2: I posted this before but deleted when I was told there was a megathreat for the album, but I think it's a bit too long and counts more of analysis than reaction or discussion of the album? so someone told me I could post it as it one and I agree, if you see this hope work went well!
submitted by A6ap3 to kpopthoughts [link] [comments]
Before talking about the content, lyrics, and general thoughts, I need to mention and study all the great artists working with RM on this album. First and foremost, San Yawn from Balming Tiger literally could be called the co-creator of this album. Another member of Balming Tiger, bj wnjn, also appears in the credits of a few songs. In the chorus in Dodomachi, you can see the best example of his influence because he's the one who sings it. The sounds, gimmicks, and the way most of the songs in the album are pierced together really feel like Balming Tiger, if anyone is a fan of them you know what I mean. Check them out, they just recently came out with an incredible album: January Never Dies. And for some song recommendations, if you really liked the theme in LOST! in Right Place Wrong People, you will love UP!.
Some other great artists work in production, OHHYUK (from HYUKOH) is the producer of Come back to me, and it really shows. I desperately ask you to go listen to HYUKOH's albums if you liked that song cause, man, that song could have fooled me if you told me it was theirs. Mokyo too, recently has been working with a lot of artists and coming out with really creative stuff, so please check him out (and go listen to Vampire, that song is just pure perfection). Going back to Come back to me, Kuo from Sunset Rollercoaster worked in it too and the guitar in the song really shows it. Check Sunset Rollercoaster too, they deserve a lot more love from the k-rock lovers. Supremeboy, even if he only appears in (I think) the credits of out of love, deserves always the love and respect from old fans of RM, so shout out to him too.
The really rich mixture of sounds and genres in the album really makes me think once again of Indigo, but this time it feels so different. In Indigo RM took a lot of inspiration from the sound of this artist but the message was less introspective in his lyrics than in Right Place Wrong People, now the mix with this artist really mixes so deeply the introspection in the lyrics with the sound. And really, the appreciation we should have for those who worked with RM in the production and writing of the album should be pointed out in bold letters and neon, cause it's fundamental to understand the whole meaning and message of the album, to the understand it's conception.
In the album, RM talks primarily about how he's perceived and how that affects the person he's come to be. It's a beautiful introspection on how others interact and convince him, and how that has affected him, and how he interacts with people. On the one hand, you can see the real symbolism that is the mix of RM's introspection with the people he collaborated with. Most people only look up to the features when we talk about the mix of different artists sounds, but in Right Place Wrong People, the symbiosis of RM's compositions it's with those that he's featuring and with those that work with him in production. See Dodomachi, he's featuring Little Smizs (I promise you I was shocked to see he was collaborating with her, go check out her last album Drop 7, it's GOLD), he collaborates and mixes his sound and lyrics with hers perfectly, but at the same time it's in the production and the choruses where what shines it's the work of bj wnjn, with his distinctive singing and those lyrics heavy where we can hear a more hollow and dark feeling in the "Friend, let's dance here", really showing the true heaviness of dislike for the life of partying he's been pushed to by those called friends. the mix of sounds, the collaboration of other people's voices (this time the right people in the right place) it's what gives the extra layers and deepness to RM's new album.
On the other hand, RM's introspection feels old and comforting for an old fan. I remember when Mono came out and how much I loved (and I still love) Seoul. Listening to this new, older, Namjoon I can't help but see in this new tone the comeback of the idea he presented once:
If love and hate are the same words /I love you, SeoulBack then the music is very conciliatory, and acceptance of change. That has changed, in Indigo we see a brief development on this idea with Change pt. 2:
Love change, friends change, everyone change, no, yeah / It is not strange, hmm, that's the world's shape, aye / You gotta admit it, hmm Don't you get it still? / Someday, a great grief will do come for you, hmm, yeahThe song, while being in Indigo, has the same type of violent emotion that connects more with Right Place Wrong People than with the album it's in. It refers to things that connect with songs like LOST!...
Ay, ay, ay, ay (Dump it on the ground, shit) / Ay, ay, ay, ay (Dump it on the ground, shit) / I keep trippin', I can’t stop bleeding / I got lost in the ground, but not beggin' at youIt refers to things that connect with songs like LOST! while also being the stage in between Mono and Right Place Wrong People. The three albums together can be read as the stages of the being of RM, the acceptance of what he was back in 2018, what his art is in 2022, and who he is in 2024. Right Place, Wrong People, as much as you can talk about it being an album of songs giving the middle finger to people, is (for me) an album about RM, how he's now as a person, and how that relates to the people around him and love. For me is an album about love and being oneself openly, and aggressively. It's love connected with pain, "pain divine". It comes back to Seoul and the connection with love and pain, how Seoul and RM's soul were the same, and how he has grown with that deep pain and love. What once was a song written with the calm acceptance of this, in Right Place Wrong People we see how this understanding has grown and RM just can't keep pretending he's not this, someone built by pain and love. In Come back to me we see it:
You are my pain, divine, divine.A song, talking about someone that's not there for him anymore, connects with this idea RM has been working with for so long in his music, that his soul is built with pain and love. But now he's not only accepted it, but he's confident in it. You can see this in Nuts, where he compares the love between him and others with elements of danger, while also assuring the person that he doesn't wish to change things to be with them, he "can make this place right for" them.
It was a tough relationship, there's a stigma on my chest / It's called you, I can't even believe we were together /It was a flu, and we could see the karma coming throughRM works around the concept of being built by pain and love, and turns it into the concept of painful love. He works around this idea in this album with these two songs especially, but you can see it in others like Around the world in a day with Mosses Summey:
We who are lost don't look so pitiful / Now with a smile, raising the middle finger / Yeah, all the past, the present / I'ma pass, then give it to you / I like myself broken, b!tch, that's the sh!tI think the more interesting line in this song is the one that goes "My appearance like a lost item hoping to be found / We who are lost don't look so pitiful / Now with a smile, raising the middle finger", and it really connects these songs I've talked about with the rest of the songs in the album, the ones that as he says is a "raising the middle finger" to those that criticize him, in those that expect him to be someone different. This theme is maybe more prevalent, you see it in Out of love or in Dodomachi. In one he says it directly, referring to the (dumb if you ask me) scandal with the picture of him smoking with these lines:
I'm just a pack of cigarette / I'm going to burn down all the love and the hate, the right, the wrongs / Even the goddamn world I've been livin' in for my whole life / Smoking kills, I know / It's my business, you bitches stop, don't talk shit / Ashes falling like snow / I've been changin' the flowIn Dodomachi he uses singing, the dark pessimistic voice of bj wnjn to talk about how he's being pushed by those who call themselves his friends to change, to be what people would expect of an artist as famous as he is, to make him forget who he was before:
I been slipping through all kinda b*llsh*t, I forgot where I came from / All s*ckers wanna get it, take a sip, silently pour it into the glass / All the s*ckers wanna hit it, I'ma lead you to the heaven, blow the flute / All my friends wanna get around in O's, all my friends wanna take another pose / Yeah, I'm knocked out, what a bullsh*t (Get the f*ck down) / Muhf*cka, want a doom sh*tAnd while I could continue for days writing my ideas on this album, I think I should conclude (I have an exam tomorrow I should be studying instead of doing this, I blame you Kim Namjoon for my laziness) with what this all concludes in the album. It's called Right Place, Wrong People and that's because of good reason. What comes out of all the ideas RM presents in the songs is one big concept: the confidence of who he is, with the pain and the love that has built him, and how he just doesn't care to conform to those that not understand this and want him to be someone else. From Seoul to Right Place, Wrong People, he shows how not only he has accepted who he is (pain and love) but he also doesn't care if others don't accept him. I think the best examples of this are in ? (Interlude), and Heaven.
You know you got the best of me / Do you know me? / I don't mind at allThis album is one of self-love, introspection, and knowing oneself, to not only accept to be confident in those things painful in one. To give a middle finger to those who want to change him and to those who criticize him for not conforming to the cruel world of fake image, violence, and stardom. It's a beautiful conclusion to ideas he has worked with in BTS and with his early works as a soloist, going as back as 2017 when he asked to be told "everything is alright" in Change with Wale. I think is beautiful how all these ideas have changed and morphed and matured with him, going from:Baby, tell me that we gon' someday stop the fight
And tell me that every, everything gon' be alright / Oh tell me who's stupid, baby, is it me or them? / Just tell me who's insane, baby, is it me or them? / In this crazy world after patience, could we get the pearl?to...
There are so many unlucky bastards in the world / So what? Just keep going your own way / There are so many incomprehensible bastards in the world / I just step on it harder, just step on it harder / Yeah, I fuck it up, I fuck it up / Hate is harmful but I suck it up /Now I'll go the other way, to the cliff (...) Just lower your eyes, so don't provoke me / If you want to be friends, just pour me a drink, you dig?PD: I wrote so much, god, and I haven't studied a bit. Going to stay up all night. Wish me luck guys! And go listen to RM's new album and all the others artist that worked with him!!!!!!
PD2: I posted this before but deleted when I was told there was a megathreat for the album, but I think it's a bit too long and counts more of analysis than reaction or discussion of the album? so someone told me I could post it as it one and I agree, if you see this hope work went well!
2024.05.28 19:18 detractor_Una Goten Black Part I: The Temple of Methan.
Short preface before I start off. Since Goku Black arc is widely considered to be the darkest arc in modern Dragon Ball, this what if would obviously have darker tone than it is usual for Dragon Ball, just as the original Goku Black arc was. Goku Black is Goten was perhaps one of the most memeable,ridiculous and intriguing theories that came when we had no idea about his real identity. The community created various what if’s, we had versions of Goten, Vegeta, Gohan and even Chi Chi. Nevertheless, they all basically included Zamasu who was the real villain behind the arc, rendering the mystery of who is Goku Black to just advanced Ginyu body swipe. In this what if or a rewrite, there is no mystery of Goten Black’s identity, Goten Black is Goten. Zamasu here is persona non grata. No Zamasu. This is more of a rewrite that would be condensed into multiple parts. Since no one wants to read a wall of text on reddit, I would try to condense each part into around 2-3K words, which is still a wall of text. I am also horrible with coming up with names, especially Dragon Ball themed ones. Alright, let us get started.
Goten Black Part I: The Temple of Methan.
Dust began filling his lungs on this deserted planet No matter the direction he looked at, the sea of sand was all he could see and if not for the winds causing this sandstorm, Goten would only hear his breathing. All alone in this forsaken world. He cursed himself under his breath that he landed here and as if gods heard him cursing they increased the winds and thus making this sandstorm even more devastating. The sudden blow of dust into his mouth and eyes hadn’t made the situation better. Veins popped out as he was irritated by this unpleasant welcoming. A sparkling yellow aura surrounded him, his hair turned yellow and his eyes turned teal, blasting away all the sandust that came this way. He didn’t know how long he was walking in this desert, perhaps only for a few minutes or maybe hours already passed. Son Goten began to fly upwards, a thing he perhaps should have done right from the start.
“What a stupid waste of my time, there is nothing here. Ah, I guess I would just fly around this forsaken world and see if there is something interesting.” The man thought to himself out loud and once more the old gods seemingly replied. This time however, their reply came in the form of a soft and pleasant melody, catching the attention of a saiyan hybrid. Following the melody, Goku's second born flew towards the direction where the melody was coming from. There he ended up in a jungle forest. Surrounded by enormous trees, lushes and caves, and yet despite this the only indication of any life form besides himself was this soft pleasant melody. Goten decided to fly down and take a walk. Soon enough it was apparent that at least in the past there was some sort of civilization as eventually he came across the road that clearly wasn't nature made. His intuition was proven correct the more he walked this road. He came across what could only be described as a town square. Roads made of brick, a fountain, buildings. There was no doubt in his mind that there was once a civilization. This peaked his curiosity and the man began exploring this ghost town, no he still followed that melody. An enormous statue appeared on his peripheral. If he could guess the statue was around several hundred times larger than him. If not for the specific features, one would think this statue is depicting some sort of a Queen. That is if not for specific features. Six horns were protruding from her head in a circular manner, creating the illusion of a crown. Albeit one the horns was smaller, as if it didn't reach full growth. The unsettling image didn't end with the horn crown. Triple layered wings were protruding from both sides of the spine, right side was painted white while left side wings were painted black. The left hand’s palm was pointing upwards while the right hand was going downward. The statue's mouth was opened and a giant tongue reaching its waist was sticking out. Painting a more intriguing image, now instead of looking as if it is depicting some sort of human Royalty, now it appeared like it was depicting some sort of hellish creature. Perhaps this is how they looked and it was indeed their Queen, it could also be some sort of statue dedicated to their local deity. Regardless of whom this statue was supposed to represent, the fact that so much detail and craftsmanship was involved meant that whoever is supposedly depicted most had a significance to those who built this enormous statue.
Son Goten stared at the statue out of intrigue and curiosity. He had to admit to himself that despite the ominous image this statue in the middle of a town painted, he felt pulled in. As if there was an aura surrounding it. He could feel energy emanating from it. Energy? This realisation disturbed hybrid even more than the statue. He recalled that upon landing in this world, he felt another Ki. However, he thought that what he was sensing was just the result of the atmosphere. Despite this planet being vacant and without life, it had proper conditions for life, so there is a high chance that some sort of microscopic life exists, creating this feeling of another Ki. Now, he had understood that his initial conclusion was wrong as the energy coming from the statue pulling him in is the same one he sensed ever since he landed on the other side of the world. The mere fact that there was another possibly sapient creature whose energy was seemingly omnipresent in this world made Goten a tidbit anxious. The melodic sound was even more apparent. Upon inspecting the statue from the close he noticed a stairs going downward spiral. There he found a place where the melody was coming from. Only one way was to go down. He walked down and down the spiral staircase, deep underground. Until he reached crossways. He could continue going down or walk though the giant doors. Gohan's little brother wasn't sure if he should continue going down as he was already a few kilometres underground.
“Young foreigner, you shouldn't disturb the peace of The Great Witch.” His pondering was cut off by a voice. Upon turning he found himself facing a humanoid elderly man wearing tuxedo and white gloves.
“The Great Witch?” Goten asked before recalling the statue.
“Young Sir, we don't have frequent visitors. However, please don't misperceive my words. We welcome foreigners and visitors from afar of the sea of the stars. Upon sensing your arrival we decided to throw a welcoming ball for your honour. Please come with me, young sire.” The elderly man replied and Goten raised his eyebrows before following elderly man through the gateway. Immediately thereafter Gohan's juvenile brother found himself surrounded in a grandiose banquet hall. Hundreds if not thousands of people were dancing, singing and feasting. Goten was immediately pulled in and joined the feast. It was nothing like he experienced before. Sure, he was in a few parties during his late teens and early to mid 20s, however this one blasts anything he experienced prior. Presumably this could be due to the seemingly ancient archaic atmosphere that made him feel this way. So for a modern man this is a new and fresh experience. Either way, Goten was fully immersed and enjoyed his time. Then suddenly everything vanished as if there was nothing here in the first place. Just a few moments ago he was part of this surreal underground banquet and now he found himself all alone in an empty dark hallway.
Was this all an illusion? But the touch, food, everything felt so real. He could feel the touch, taste of a food, hear music, people laughing, singing, conversing.
“Don't dwell on it, I can assure you that I wouldn't go for simple trickery like this. You may continue going down until you reach a crossroads. There you shall walk through the gates and enjoy a feast once more. Once the feast there is over, you shall repeat this once more. This was your first feast, after the third you shall go to the bottom, only then we shall meet, Son Goten.” A soft feminine and yet commanding voice resounded in his head. His instincts were screaming to get the hell out as this could prove to be a fatal trap. The seemingly strange instructions sounded as if he's a part of some sort of bizarre ritual. He clenched his fists with curiosity and determination.
‘Well, The Great Witch, if it happens to be a trap in the end, I can promise you that I will be the one who remains alive.’ Goten was determined to proceed. It didn't take long to find out that his instincts were most likely correct. As in the second ballroom the banquet had a more sinister undertone and was somewhat more depraved compared to the first one. Despite this, he decided to immerse himself just like he did the first time. And just like the first one, the second one ended already. Before entering the final hall, he was pondering to himself. If the second ball had a tidbit darker and depraved compared to the first one, this final one might be called Banquet of Hell. The trap is simple, he's not going to become some sort of sacrifice for the dark witch. No, the purpose of the trap and the whole thing is to make him one of them. He's not going to die, however he's not allowed to leave. That is what he thought to himself. Shall he go through the 3rd gateway and fully immerse himself into this or should he get out and forget. An image of a man that he hadn't seen for a good part of decade or perhaps more appeared in his mind. A man who he despised more than anything else. A man he once looked up to but became a reason for Goten eventually leaving. The second born of Son Goku and Chichi thought that these feelings dwindled down, yet now everything resurfaced. If beforehand he wasn't sure if he should proceed, now he doesn't care. Even if he shall throw away his humanity and become a demon. In one way he shall make everyone pay.
‘Damn, if I am not mistaken he's already gone in this timeline. How unfortunate, I can't strangle his throat with my bare hands. I guess I would just slaughter every human remaining on earth’ Dark thoughts filled his mind and a reply came which made him grin.
_____
Several years later, Planet Earth. The morning sun woke up a heroic warrior, banisher of the Androids. Symbol of hope and strength. Bulma's son quickly dressed up and looked through the window. The atmosphere outside was pleasant and peaceful. A slight smile appeared on Trunk's face only to immediately go away as he recalled what day it was. He wasn't sure how otherworld stuff works as neither Gohan or his mother could have explained him in detail. Despite this after the defeat of Androids and Cell, during the anniversary of his master's death he would describe what he is seeing. He wasn't certain if any of this reached Gohan's ears or if he's just talking into nothing. Perhaps this annual ritual was a reminder that all the battles, struggles and Gohan's sacrifice was not in vain. Slowly but steadily the world is healing.
“Hello, Gohan, another year has passed. So much has happened, remember how I told you about the construction of a new school? Well, I can see a family of four walking down the path. A girl is holding a red balloon holding her mother's hand, while her brother is sitting on the shoulders of their father. Young guy must be a few years younger and still not ready for school. Not far away a group of teenagers passed the crossroads. There is an elderly couple on their bicycles going down the hill. A bakery man across the street opened his shop. Life is peaceful.”
After that Trunks went into a meditative state, courtesy of past Piccolo who taught him before he left the past and came back to the future years ago. Even if the world is peaceful and there seems no threat, Trunks still has some light training sessions every morning before going down to eat. The reminder of keeping his training came only a year earlier when Babidi and his minions including Dabura tried to attack earth in an attempt to revive Majin Buu. Luckily Trunks had help from Supreme Kai and Kibito. Ever since that he incorporated their teachings and training into his daily training routine.
Several hours had passed and it was time. He alongside his mother and Mai travelled to the mountain Paoozu.
“I can't believe that so many years have passed.” Bulma spoke as she placed flowers on one of the three graves. Trunks and Mai placed on the remaining two. From left to right, three graves stood with names carved, here lies and rests: Son Goku, Son Gohan and Chi Chi Son. Unbeknownst to them a figure from a far was watching them, essentially waiting for his turn.
‘How sweet of you Trunks, to commemorate my dearest brother's grave. I see that even in this timeline you and Mai have a thing for one another. Don't worry, old friend, I shall let you proceed with this. However, this is the last time you would ever visit my perfidious brother's grave!’
As Goten was speaking to himself, Trunks turned around.
“Is there something wrong?” Mai asked her boyfriend.
“No, I thought I heard someone, must be a bird.”
Bulma heavily breathed out. “Should we go back?”
“Yeah, until another year.” Her son replied and the trio went inside Bulma's vehicle, going back to Capsule Corporation. However, it wasn't until the sun was already set and the skies began to darken when Goten approached the three graves of the Son Family.
“Hello, brother, it has been quite some time since we spoke to one another. Oh, wait I forgot ,here in this timeline you never had a brother. Pardon for my rudeness and let me introduce myself. I am Son Goten, the second born child of Son Goku and Chichi, younger brother of Son Gohan. However, I am from another timeline, the one Trunks of this world once travelled into. It is so unfortunate that here in this timeline you're already gone as I would love to strangle your throat while our mother watches helplessly. But, you see dear brother, you being already dead happens to be more of a blessing to me than an unfortunate curse. That is because you're completely helpless and can do nothing besides just watching how everything you fought for, everything you believed in, everything you sacrificed your life for is slowly turning its head around. I really hope you and every single one of you out there are going to enjoy the spectacle.” He spoke while taking a pee and after urinating he put his pants back on.
“Good-bye.” Goten spoke once more with a serious tone and snapped his fingers, setting all of the Mountain Paozu into a blaze.
submitted by detractor_Una to MasakoX [link] [comments]
Goten Black Part I: The Temple of Methan.
Dust began filling his lungs on this deserted planet No matter the direction he looked at, the sea of sand was all he could see and if not for the winds causing this sandstorm, Goten would only hear his breathing. All alone in this forsaken world. He cursed himself under his breath that he landed here and as if gods heard him cursing they increased the winds and thus making this sandstorm even more devastating. The sudden blow of dust into his mouth and eyes hadn’t made the situation better. Veins popped out as he was irritated by this unpleasant welcoming. A sparkling yellow aura surrounded him, his hair turned yellow and his eyes turned teal, blasting away all the sandust that came this way. He didn’t know how long he was walking in this desert, perhaps only for a few minutes or maybe hours already passed. Son Goten began to fly upwards, a thing he perhaps should have done right from the start.
“What a stupid waste of my time, there is nothing here. Ah, I guess I would just fly around this forsaken world and see if there is something interesting.” The man thought to himself out loud and once more the old gods seemingly replied. This time however, their reply came in the form of a soft and pleasant melody, catching the attention of a saiyan hybrid. Following the melody, Goku's second born flew towards the direction where the melody was coming from. There he ended up in a jungle forest. Surrounded by enormous trees, lushes and caves, and yet despite this the only indication of any life form besides himself was this soft pleasant melody. Goten decided to fly down and take a walk. Soon enough it was apparent that at least in the past there was some sort of civilization as eventually he came across the road that clearly wasn't nature made. His intuition was proven correct the more he walked this road. He came across what could only be described as a town square. Roads made of brick, a fountain, buildings. There was no doubt in his mind that there was once a civilization. This peaked his curiosity and the man began exploring this ghost town, no he still followed that melody. An enormous statue appeared on his peripheral. If he could guess the statue was around several hundred times larger than him. If not for the specific features, one would think this statue is depicting some sort of a Queen. That is if not for specific features. Six horns were protruding from her head in a circular manner, creating the illusion of a crown. Albeit one the horns was smaller, as if it didn't reach full growth. The unsettling image didn't end with the horn crown. Triple layered wings were protruding from both sides of the spine, right side was painted white while left side wings were painted black. The left hand’s palm was pointing upwards while the right hand was going downward. The statue's mouth was opened and a giant tongue reaching its waist was sticking out. Painting a more intriguing image, now instead of looking as if it is depicting some sort of human Royalty, now it appeared like it was depicting some sort of hellish creature. Perhaps this is how they looked and it was indeed their Queen, it could also be some sort of statue dedicated to their local deity. Regardless of whom this statue was supposed to represent, the fact that so much detail and craftsmanship was involved meant that whoever is supposedly depicted most had a significance to those who built this enormous statue.
Son Goten stared at the statue out of intrigue and curiosity. He had to admit to himself that despite the ominous image this statue in the middle of a town painted, he felt pulled in. As if there was an aura surrounding it. He could feel energy emanating from it. Energy? This realisation disturbed hybrid even more than the statue. He recalled that upon landing in this world, he felt another Ki. However, he thought that what he was sensing was just the result of the atmosphere. Despite this planet being vacant and without life, it had proper conditions for life, so there is a high chance that some sort of microscopic life exists, creating this feeling of another Ki. Now, he had understood that his initial conclusion was wrong as the energy coming from the statue pulling him in is the same one he sensed ever since he landed on the other side of the world. The mere fact that there was another possibly sapient creature whose energy was seemingly omnipresent in this world made Goten a tidbit anxious. The melodic sound was even more apparent. Upon inspecting the statue from the close he noticed a stairs going downward spiral. There he found a place where the melody was coming from. Only one way was to go down. He walked down and down the spiral staircase, deep underground. Until he reached crossways. He could continue going down or walk though the giant doors. Gohan's little brother wasn't sure if he should continue going down as he was already a few kilometres underground.
“Young foreigner, you shouldn't disturb the peace of The Great Witch.” His pondering was cut off by a voice. Upon turning he found himself facing a humanoid elderly man wearing tuxedo and white gloves.
“The Great Witch?” Goten asked before recalling the statue.
“Young Sir, we don't have frequent visitors. However, please don't misperceive my words. We welcome foreigners and visitors from afar of the sea of the stars. Upon sensing your arrival we decided to throw a welcoming ball for your honour. Please come with me, young sire.” The elderly man replied and Goten raised his eyebrows before following elderly man through the gateway. Immediately thereafter Gohan's juvenile brother found himself surrounded in a grandiose banquet hall. Hundreds if not thousands of people were dancing, singing and feasting. Goten was immediately pulled in and joined the feast. It was nothing like he experienced before. Sure, he was in a few parties during his late teens and early to mid 20s, however this one blasts anything he experienced prior. Presumably this could be due to the seemingly ancient archaic atmosphere that made him feel this way. So for a modern man this is a new and fresh experience. Either way, Goten was fully immersed and enjoyed his time. Then suddenly everything vanished as if there was nothing here in the first place. Just a few moments ago he was part of this surreal underground banquet and now he found himself all alone in an empty dark hallway.
Was this all an illusion? But the touch, food, everything felt so real. He could feel the touch, taste of a food, hear music, people laughing, singing, conversing.
“Don't dwell on it, I can assure you that I wouldn't go for simple trickery like this. You may continue going down until you reach a crossroads. There you shall walk through the gates and enjoy a feast once more. Once the feast there is over, you shall repeat this once more. This was your first feast, after the third you shall go to the bottom, only then we shall meet, Son Goten.” A soft feminine and yet commanding voice resounded in his head. His instincts were screaming to get the hell out as this could prove to be a fatal trap. The seemingly strange instructions sounded as if he's a part of some sort of bizarre ritual. He clenched his fists with curiosity and determination.
‘Well, The Great Witch, if it happens to be a trap in the end, I can promise you that I will be the one who remains alive.’ Goten was determined to proceed. It didn't take long to find out that his instincts were most likely correct. As in the second ballroom the banquet had a more sinister undertone and was somewhat more depraved compared to the first one. Despite this, he decided to immerse himself just like he did the first time. And just like the first one, the second one ended already. Before entering the final hall, he was pondering to himself. If the second ball had a tidbit darker and depraved compared to the first one, this final one might be called Banquet of Hell. The trap is simple, he's not going to become some sort of sacrifice for the dark witch. No, the purpose of the trap and the whole thing is to make him one of them. He's not going to die, however he's not allowed to leave. That is what he thought to himself. Shall he go through the 3rd gateway and fully immerse himself into this or should he get out and forget. An image of a man that he hadn't seen for a good part of decade or perhaps more appeared in his mind. A man who he despised more than anything else. A man he once looked up to but became a reason for Goten eventually leaving. The second born of Son Goku and Chichi thought that these feelings dwindled down, yet now everything resurfaced. If beforehand he wasn't sure if he should proceed, now he doesn't care. Even if he shall throw away his humanity and become a demon. In one way he shall make everyone pay.
‘Damn, if I am not mistaken he's already gone in this timeline. How unfortunate, I can't strangle his throat with my bare hands. I guess I would just slaughter every human remaining on earth’ Dark thoughts filled his mind and a reply came which made him grin.
_____
Several years later, Planet Earth. The morning sun woke up a heroic warrior, banisher of the Androids. Symbol of hope and strength. Bulma's son quickly dressed up and looked through the window. The atmosphere outside was pleasant and peaceful. A slight smile appeared on Trunk's face only to immediately go away as he recalled what day it was. He wasn't sure how otherworld stuff works as neither Gohan or his mother could have explained him in detail. Despite this after the defeat of Androids and Cell, during the anniversary of his master's death he would describe what he is seeing. He wasn't certain if any of this reached Gohan's ears or if he's just talking into nothing. Perhaps this annual ritual was a reminder that all the battles, struggles and Gohan's sacrifice was not in vain. Slowly but steadily the world is healing.
“Hello, Gohan, another year has passed. So much has happened, remember how I told you about the construction of a new school? Well, I can see a family of four walking down the path. A girl is holding a red balloon holding her mother's hand, while her brother is sitting on the shoulders of their father. Young guy must be a few years younger and still not ready for school. Not far away a group of teenagers passed the crossroads. There is an elderly couple on their bicycles going down the hill. A bakery man across the street opened his shop. Life is peaceful.”
After that Trunks went into a meditative state, courtesy of past Piccolo who taught him before he left the past and came back to the future years ago. Even if the world is peaceful and there seems no threat, Trunks still has some light training sessions every morning before going down to eat. The reminder of keeping his training came only a year earlier when Babidi and his minions including Dabura tried to attack earth in an attempt to revive Majin Buu. Luckily Trunks had help from Supreme Kai and Kibito. Ever since that he incorporated their teachings and training into his daily training routine.
Several hours had passed and it was time. He alongside his mother and Mai travelled to the mountain Paoozu.
“I can't believe that so many years have passed.” Bulma spoke as she placed flowers on one of the three graves. Trunks and Mai placed on the remaining two. From left to right, three graves stood with names carved, here lies and rests: Son Goku, Son Gohan and Chi Chi Son. Unbeknownst to them a figure from a far was watching them, essentially waiting for his turn.
‘How sweet of you Trunks, to commemorate my dearest brother's grave. I see that even in this timeline you and Mai have a thing for one another. Don't worry, old friend, I shall let you proceed with this. However, this is the last time you would ever visit my perfidious brother's grave!’
As Goten was speaking to himself, Trunks turned around.
“Is there something wrong?” Mai asked her boyfriend.
“No, I thought I heard someone, must be a bird.”
Bulma heavily breathed out. “Should we go back?”
“Yeah, until another year.” Her son replied and the trio went inside Bulma's vehicle, going back to Capsule Corporation. However, it wasn't until the sun was already set and the skies began to darken when Goten approached the three graves of the Son Family.
“Hello, brother, it has been quite some time since we spoke to one another. Oh, wait I forgot ,here in this timeline you never had a brother. Pardon for my rudeness and let me introduce myself. I am Son Goten, the second born child of Son Goku and Chichi, younger brother of Son Gohan. However, I am from another timeline, the one Trunks of this world once travelled into. It is so unfortunate that here in this timeline you're already gone as I would love to strangle your throat while our mother watches helplessly. But, you see dear brother, you being already dead happens to be more of a blessing to me than an unfortunate curse. That is because you're completely helpless and can do nothing besides just watching how everything you fought for, everything you believed in, everything you sacrificed your life for is slowly turning its head around. I really hope you and every single one of you out there are going to enjoy the spectacle.” He spoke while taking a pee and after urinating he put his pants back on.
“Good-bye.” Goten spoke once more with a serious tone and snapped his fingers, setting all of the Mountain Paozu into a blaze.
2024.05.28 19:01 PriestessOfSpiders I think my friend is in danger. Stage 4: Transmission [Finale]
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Content warning for suicide.
I should have known better than to expect uninterrupted sleep. I was awakened at some point in the early morning, before the sun came up, by a tapping against my window. I opened my eyes to find that the lights I had made sure to leave on the night before were all now off. Flipping the switch on the bedside lamp did nothing. The tapping came again, and I turned to look.
The blinds began to roll up by themselves, slowly, revealing a view of the parking lot illuminated by the bright moon. Creeping down from the top of the windows, I caught sight of a pair of feet dangling into view. Then legs, arms, a torso, all descending like a puppet on strings and clothed in ripped, blood-stained nightclothes. Finally, the face came into view, and I shuddered with recognition.
It was me.
The neck was bent at an impossible angle, long greasy hair cascaded over sunken eyes and lips curled into a pained almost-smile, but it was me. I realized with horror what lookatme.png had been depicting when I noticed the noose around the corpse’s neck.
One of the arms began to move, pressing a lifeless finger against the glass of the motel window and scrawling a series of letters in dark, dead blood.
F I R S T K I S S
When the corpse was finished, the arm dangled lifelessly against its sides once more, and it turned around to face the moon. It seemed to float out into the parking lot, the hanging rope carrying it along as it slowly gained altitude, ascending further and further upwards into the dark sky. The blinds began to move again of their own accord, covering up the window like curtains at the end of a play.
Despite everything I had been through, despite the horrifying dullness I felt in my heart from days of constant lack of safety, I still had enough energy left to cry.
The thing’s instructions were simple enough to follow. I knew where I had received my first kiss.
I arrived at the zoo as soon as it opened, hoodie up over my head in an attempt to obscure as much of my sleep deprived, dead-eyed face as possible. I didn’t bother stopping to look at any of the exhibits, instead making a bee-line for the reptile house. I hadn’t visited it in a long time, it brought back bad memories of a relationship that had already begun to curdle at the time of that long-ago visit.
My prompt arrival at the zoo’s opening, combined with the fact that it was a weekday, meant that for the time being I was the only visitor in the building. I walked past the chuckwallas, the tortoises, the gila monsters, the rattlesnakes, the horned toads, a veritable parade of cold-blooded beasts, ignoring them all until I arrived at my destination; the anaconda.
It just sat there, as it always did, an albino serpent the length of a truck, just lazing about in the moist, green habitat that was its whole world. I doubt it even registered my presence in the room. I sat down on a bench and waited to see what would happen next. It didn’t take very long.
After a few minutes, someone else walked into the room. I didn’t even need to look up to know who it was, or, rather who it was pretending to be. Even in my peripheral vision, I could recognize myself.
“Hello Thomas” it said, its voice a perfect mimicry of my own.
“That’s not my name.”
It cackled, mockery dripping from its voice as its laughter reverberated through the dark room. I just sat there and waited for it to finish. I was too tired to be afraid anymore. Part of me hoped that it had brought me there to kill me.
“What do you want?” I asked.
“Look at me.”
“I already have.”
“Look at me.”
I did as I was told, raising my eyes to look at the thing that had systematically worked to destroy my will to live. Its face was pale, its eyes dull, with lips a dull blue. The ends of its twisted not-smile twitched slightly as I made eye contact.
“Why are you doing this?” I asked.
It didn’t respond, it just kept looking at me with its dead, glassy eyes.
“What do you want from me?”
The thing reached a stiff, dead hand into its pocket, producing a scuffed and ancient flash drive.
“Pass it on. Make someone else look at me,” it said, tossing the flash drive to the ground with a clatter of plastic on concrete.
“No.”
In a flash, it was on top of me, hands tight around my throat. I struggled to breath, and frantically tried to push off my doppelganger’s stiff, cold body, but to no avail.
“It is very different,” it said, “to think you want to die, and to actually want to die. If you really wanted me to kill you, you wouldn’t be here right now, you would have done it to yourself already, you disgusting coward. You wouldn’t try to fight back as you feel your own hands close around your neck, you wouldn’t even try to take another breath. But you don’t really want to die. You just want to stop suffering. That’s not the same thing. And until you do choose to die, I can make you suffer, much, much worse than this.”
It let go, abruptly, and I fell to the ground in a heap, shaking and coughing. The shot of adrenaline from my body’s latent desire to stay alive provided me with just enough emotional energy to feel very, very afraid. The thing picked the flash drive up off the ground and placed it firmly in the palm of my hand. I winced at its touch.
“Make someone else look at me,” it said, and walked away, melting into the shadows of the dimly lit room.
And that brings us to the here and now. I’m sitting at my computer now, staring at this word document and trying very hard not to pay attention to the reflection I can see in my monitor, at the figure standing right behind me.
I’ve been writing this all out in one sitting, so I apologize if it isn’t particularly coherent, Helen, but I know you’ll understand. I trust you will have done as I instructed, and hopefully by the time you’re actually reading this, it has been several days after I wrote it.
Right now, in another window, I have an email draft open. I’m using a temporary account, one of those “self-destructing” addresses that will delete in about an hour. I imagine I don’t have to tell you what the email’s title is, nor the name of its sole attachment.
I haven’t set a recipient yet. When I first started writing this all out, I thought for sure I’d just send it to Seth, set the title to something like “Here is a check for how much I owe you” or something like that. But no matter how much they hurt me, I can’t bring myself to do this to them. Even if it is their fault that this is happening to me. I think I’ll just try to find someone on linkedin or something and send it to them instead. It feels less horrible if the victim isn’t somebody I know. If it’s personal, it feels like murder.
You’ve probably been wondering why I divided this all into stages, why I told you to only look at one each day. It’s actually very simple; I didn’t want you to call the police. It is very possible that by the time you are reading this, I am already dead.
I don’t want to see how much this thing can make me suffer. I’m hoping that after I pass on the email, it will just leave me alone, but I can’t trust that that is the case. I don’t want to be put on suicide watch and kept from getting out of this if there is no other way.
At the same time, I want other people to know. I don’t want anyone else to have to suffer through this like I have. I want the next idiot to download lookatme.png to have a fighting chance, an idea of what they’re up against. This is the only way I can make that happen.
I’m going to send these documents to you Helen, so you can spread them far and wide. Then, I’m sending the email. What happens after that, I don’t know.
Thank you.
Postscript
Immediately after reading this final document, I made the hour long drive to Trinity’s house. I will admit, I feel like a total fool for not having called the police in the first place, but I knew that it was at this point already too late if the worst had occurred. Fortunately, I knew where Trinity had left a spare house key under a false stone in her front yard, so I didn’t need to resort to breaking and entering.
Despite the car in the driveway, I was greeted with an empty house, In some ways this was more disturbing than if I had found Trinity’s corpse dangling from a beam. Nothing seemed to be missing, and the suitcase containing her clothes from her brief stay at the motel sat open in the entryway.
The only sign of Trinity’s presence that I found was her laptop, long-since dead from battery drain, with a battered old flash drive plugged into one of the USB ports. For obvious reasons, I did not remove it.
I have filed a missing persons report with the local police, and dearly hope that someday, somehow, Trinity will be found, safe, alive, and unharmed.
submitted by PriestessOfSpiders to nosleep [link] [comments]
Part 2
Part 3
Content warning for suicide.
I should have known better than to expect uninterrupted sleep. I was awakened at some point in the early morning, before the sun came up, by a tapping against my window. I opened my eyes to find that the lights I had made sure to leave on the night before were all now off. Flipping the switch on the bedside lamp did nothing. The tapping came again, and I turned to look.
The blinds began to roll up by themselves, slowly, revealing a view of the parking lot illuminated by the bright moon. Creeping down from the top of the windows, I caught sight of a pair of feet dangling into view. Then legs, arms, a torso, all descending like a puppet on strings and clothed in ripped, blood-stained nightclothes. Finally, the face came into view, and I shuddered with recognition.
It was me.
The neck was bent at an impossible angle, long greasy hair cascaded over sunken eyes and lips curled into a pained almost-smile, but it was me. I realized with horror what lookatme.png had been depicting when I noticed the noose around the corpse’s neck.
One of the arms began to move, pressing a lifeless finger against the glass of the motel window and scrawling a series of letters in dark, dead blood.
F I R S T K I S S
When the corpse was finished, the arm dangled lifelessly against its sides once more, and it turned around to face the moon. It seemed to float out into the parking lot, the hanging rope carrying it along as it slowly gained altitude, ascending further and further upwards into the dark sky. The blinds began to move again of their own accord, covering up the window like curtains at the end of a play.
Despite everything I had been through, despite the horrifying dullness I felt in my heart from days of constant lack of safety, I still had enough energy left to cry.
I arrived at the zoo as soon as it opened, hoodie up over my head in an attempt to obscure as much of my sleep deprived, dead-eyed face as possible. I didn’t bother stopping to look at any of the exhibits, instead making a bee-line for the reptile house. I hadn’t visited it in a long time, it brought back bad memories of a relationship that had already begun to curdle at the time of that long-ago visit.
My prompt arrival at the zoo’s opening, combined with the fact that it was a weekday, meant that for the time being I was the only visitor in the building. I walked past the chuckwallas, the tortoises, the gila monsters, the rattlesnakes, the horned toads, a veritable parade of cold-blooded beasts, ignoring them all until I arrived at my destination; the anaconda.
It just sat there, as it always did, an albino serpent the length of a truck, just lazing about in the moist, green habitat that was its whole world. I doubt it even registered my presence in the room. I sat down on a bench and waited to see what would happen next. It didn’t take very long.
After a few minutes, someone else walked into the room. I didn’t even need to look up to know who it was, or, rather who it was pretending to be. Even in my peripheral vision, I could recognize myself.
“Hello Thomas” it said, its voice a perfect mimicry of my own.
“That’s not my name.”
It cackled, mockery dripping from its voice as its laughter reverberated through the dark room. I just sat there and waited for it to finish. I was too tired to be afraid anymore. Part of me hoped that it had brought me there to kill me.
“What do you want?” I asked.
“Look at me.”
“I already have.”
“Look at me.”
I did as I was told, raising my eyes to look at the thing that had systematically worked to destroy my will to live. Its face was pale, its eyes dull, with lips a dull blue. The ends of its twisted not-smile twitched slightly as I made eye contact.
“Why are you doing this?” I asked.
It didn’t respond, it just kept looking at me with its dead, glassy eyes.
“What do you want from me?”
The thing reached a stiff, dead hand into its pocket, producing a scuffed and ancient flash drive.
“Pass it on. Make someone else look at me,” it said, tossing the flash drive to the ground with a clatter of plastic on concrete.
“No.”
In a flash, it was on top of me, hands tight around my throat. I struggled to breath, and frantically tried to push off my doppelganger’s stiff, cold body, but to no avail.
“It is very different,” it said, “to think you want to die, and to actually want to die. If you really wanted me to kill you, you wouldn’t be here right now, you would have done it to yourself already, you disgusting coward. You wouldn’t try to fight back as you feel your own hands close around your neck, you wouldn’t even try to take another breath. But you don’t really want to die. You just want to stop suffering. That’s not the same thing. And until you do choose to die, I can make you suffer, much, much worse than this.”
It let go, abruptly, and I fell to the ground in a heap, shaking and coughing. The shot of adrenaline from my body’s latent desire to stay alive provided me with just enough emotional energy to feel very, very afraid. The thing picked the flash drive up off the ground and placed it firmly in the palm of my hand. I winced at its touch.
“Make someone else look at me,” it said, and walked away, melting into the shadows of the dimly lit room.
I’ve been writing this all out in one sitting, so I apologize if it isn’t particularly coherent, Helen, but I know you’ll understand. I trust you will have done as I instructed, and hopefully by the time you’re actually reading this, it has been several days after I wrote it.
Right now, in another window, I have an email draft open. I’m using a temporary account, one of those “self-destructing” addresses that will delete in about an hour. I imagine I don’t have to tell you what the email’s title is, nor the name of its sole attachment.
I haven’t set a recipient yet. When I first started writing this all out, I thought for sure I’d just send it to Seth, set the title to something like “Here is a check for how much I owe you” or something like that. But no matter how much they hurt me, I can’t bring myself to do this to them. Even if it is their fault that this is happening to me. I think I’ll just try to find someone on linkedin or something and send it to them instead. It feels less horrible if the victim isn’t somebody I know. If it’s personal, it feels like murder.
You’ve probably been wondering why I divided this all into stages, why I told you to only look at one each day. It’s actually very simple; I didn’t want you to call the police. It is very possible that by the time you are reading this, I am already dead.
I don’t want to see how much this thing can make me suffer. I’m hoping that after I pass on the email, it will just leave me alone, but I can’t trust that that is the case. I don’t want to be put on suicide watch and kept from getting out of this if there is no other way.
At the same time, I want other people to know. I don’t want anyone else to have to suffer through this like I have. I want the next idiot to download lookatme.png to have a fighting chance, an idea of what they’re up against. This is the only way I can make that happen.
I’m going to send these documents to you Helen, so you can spread them far and wide. Then, I’m sending the email. What happens after that, I don’t know.
Thank you.
Immediately after reading this final document, I made the hour long drive to Trinity’s house. I will admit, I feel like a total fool for not having called the police in the first place, but I knew that it was at this point already too late if the worst had occurred. Fortunately, I knew where Trinity had left a spare house key under a false stone in her front yard, so I didn’t need to resort to breaking and entering.
Despite the car in the driveway, I was greeted with an empty house, In some ways this was more disturbing than if I had found Trinity’s corpse dangling from a beam. Nothing seemed to be missing, and the suitcase containing her clothes from her brief stay at the motel sat open in the entryway.
The only sign of Trinity’s presence that I found was her laptop, long-since dead from battery drain, with a battered old flash drive plugged into one of the USB ports. For obvious reasons, I did not remove it.
I have filed a missing persons report with the local police, and dearly hope that someday, somehow, Trinity will be found, safe, alive, and unharmed.
2024.05.28 18:53 ThatOtherShore Coming to Terms with Your Past Allows You to Let it Go and Reconnect with Your Life!
“Broken people are a bottomless pit that you will never completely understand or gain closure from. ‘It is what it is’, after a certain point, and continuing to look at it will build its energy instead of helping you let it go. Life is short, it is happening now, and it is urgent that you begin living yours again when that time comes.”
___________________
The Existential Crisis that Appears after Narcissistic Abuse
Suffering from deep betrayal, emotional abuse, and other horrors of a pathological relationship can really do a number on all areas of your life. It can be a trigger for a profound personal crisis, emotional dysregulation, and a deep questioning of how you’ve been living and who you’ve been choosing.
Instead of a few months and back on your feet like a normal ‘bad breakup’, this one is not getting better, but maybe worse with time! It often takes a few years to start emerging from this dark experience and you feel very different from the person you used to be before and during that relationship. It is as if your past has burned to ashes but is still smoldering at the foot of your bed, and you are forced to figure out who you really are in order to start over.
The level of existential loneliness, despair, emptiness, and abandonment is like nothing you’ve ever experienced. The grief and remorse can feel crippling at their heights and it takes all the resilience you can muster to just keep going and have faith that it will get better. For me, the hardest part of coming to terms with who I’d allowed to pillage through my life and my heart, was facing the fact that it wasn’t only her who is a fraud, but there were fraudulent elements in me as well. OUCH. Shadow work is brutal, especially because it’s not about self-loathing (though there will surely be some!) but about self-honesty with compassion so we can integrate our own dark sides and become whole people- imperfect, human, and striving upward.
Reaching a Final Conclusion About the Past
This is the step that pathological narcissists are never able to take- this honest self-inventory and ability to mature and evolve by holding oneself accountable and doing the grueling work. There are too many deeply ingrained layers of defense and projection for them to go there. This is why you must let them go and not look back. Not because they are ‘evil’ or ’all bad’, but because they lack the capacity to show up for life in an authentic way and are stuck in an abusive karma-wheel of ego defense, survival mode, and lying. That is as far as they can go. Even if they have brief moments of true remorse, they lack object constancy so that everything they say and do is built from sand, not from stone. There is nothing solid on which one can trust, connect, and feel safe.
This is why it was doomed from the beginning and why there is no path forward for you that can include them. And once you’ve learned ‘enough’ about why they are broken, you don’t need to keep studying it or paying attention to it. Broken people are a bottomless pit that you will never completely understand or gain closure from. It is what it is after a certain point, and continuing to look at it will build its energy instead of helping you let it go. Life is short and it is happening now, and it is urgent that you begin living yours again.
So I know it can be soothing to keep reading about ‘narcissists’ and keep venting about how evil they are. You’ve been deeply wounded at your core and you have every right to take some time to be angry, to assert yourself, to be heard and seen, and to heal. But after a reasonable period, I would start asking myself: “Okay, I get it. I’ve done the work and I understand what I need to understand. Now what?”
Reconnecting With Life
And it is reaching that question: ”Now what?” where I began to allow a sense of freedom, liberation, lightness, and excitement to come back into my life for the first time in a long time. I saw that I’d attended to my wound enough and now I’d just be picking at the scab to irritate it if I kept paying so much attention to my past. This was the time for integrity and personal responsibility. My soul, my heart, my spirit, my body, my life- they all needed me to show up for myself and get moving again. I didn’t have to be ‘healed’ or ‘better’, I just had to be ‘good enough for today’, that’s it. Utterly ordinary and human and real.
Completing the circle of this dark experience is where the light begins to come back in, because for once in your life you are focusing not on others’ needs but ON YOUR OWN NEEDS AND HOW TO MEET THEM in an inspired, brave, and joyful way. That doesn’t mean it will be easy and feel good all the time. But it will be real, purposeful, meaningful, and very YOU. And after living through someone who discounted your dignity, respect, and meaning- the most healing act you can take in the long run is to uphold and grow all of those beautiful qualities in yourself: dignity, respect, and meaning.
This is how you begin to reconnect with life. You shrink the looming shadow of your past down to a small harmless trinket and put it in your pocket, you draw the curtains and open the windows for new light and fresh air. You walk through a new door, a different door this time, one that leads to YOUR path, where you trust yourself to move forward, one step at a time.
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The Existential Crisis that Appears after Narcissistic Abuse
Suffering from deep betrayal, emotional abuse, and other horrors of a pathological relationship can really do a number on all areas of your life. It can be a trigger for a profound personal crisis, emotional dysregulation, and a deep questioning of how you’ve been living and who you’ve been choosing.
Instead of a few months and back on your feet like a normal ‘bad breakup’, this one is not getting better, but maybe worse with time! It often takes a few years to start emerging from this dark experience and you feel very different from the person you used to be before and during that relationship. It is as if your past has burned to ashes but is still smoldering at the foot of your bed, and you are forced to figure out who you really are in order to start over.
The level of existential loneliness, despair, emptiness, and abandonment is like nothing you’ve ever experienced. The grief and remorse can feel crippling at their heights and it takes all the resilience you can muster to just keep going and have faith that it will get better. For me, the hardest part of coming to terms with who I’d allowed to pillage through my life and my heart, was facing the fact that it wasn’t only her who is a fraud, but there were fraudulent elements in me as well. OUCH. Shadow work is brutal, especially because it’s not about self-loathing (though there will surely be some!) but about self-honesty with compassion so we can integrate our own dark sides and become whole people- imperfect, human, and striving upward.
Reaching a Final Conclusion About the Past
This is the step that pathological narcissists are never able to take- this honest self-inventory and ability to mature and evolve by holding oneself accountable and doing the grueling work. There are too many deeply ingrained layers of defense and projection for them to go there. This is why you must let them go and not look back. Not because they are ‘evil’ or ’all bad’, but because they lack the capacity to show up for life in an authentic way and are stuck in an abusive karma-wheel of ego defense, survival mode, and lying. That is as far as they can go. Even if they have brief moments of true remorse, they lack object constancy so that everything they say and do is built from sand, not from stone. There is nothing solid on which one can trust, connect, and feel safe.
This is why it was doomed from the beginning and why there is no path forward for you that can include them. And once you’ve learned ‘enough’ about why they are broken, you don’t need to keep studying it or paying attention to it. Broken people are a bottomless pit that you will never completely understand or gain closure from. It is what it is after a certain point, and continuing to look at it will build its energy instead of helping you let it go. Life is short and it is happening now, and it is urgent that you begin living yours again.
So I know it can be soothing to keep reading about ‘narcissists’ and keep venting about how evil they are. You’ve been deeply wounded at your core and you have every right to take some time to be angry, to assert yourself, to be heard and seen, and to heal. But after a reasonable period, I would start asking myself: “Okay, I get it. I’ve done the work and I understand what I need to understand. Now what?”
Reconnecting With Life
And it is reaching that question: ”Now what?” where I began to allow a sense of freedom, liberation, lightness, and excitement to come back into my life for the first time in a long time. I saw that I’d attended to my wound enough and now I’d just be picking at the scab to irritate it if I kept paying so much attention to my past. This was the time for integrity and personal responsibility. My soul, my heart, my spirit, my body, my life- they all needed me to show up for myself and get moving again. I didn’t have to be ‘healed’ or ‘better’, I just had to be ‘good enough for today’, that’s it. Utterly ordinary and human and real.
Completing the circle of this dark experience is where the light begins to come back in, because for once in your life you are focusing not on others’ needs but ON YOUR OWN NEEDS AND HOW TO MEET THEM in an inspired, brave, and joyful way. That doesn’t mean it will be easy and feel good all the time. But it will be real, purposeful, meaningful, and very YOU. And after living through someone who discounted your dignity, respect, and meaning- the most healing act you can take in the long run is to uphold and grow all of those beautiful qualities in yourself: dignity, respect, and meaning.
This is how you begin to reconnect with life. You shrink the looming shadow of your past down to a small harmless trinket and put it in your pocket, you draw the curtains and open the windows for new light and fresh air. You walk through a new door, a different door this time, one that leads to YOUR path, where you trust yourself to move forward, one step at a time.