I have lived in a delusion all my life that my dad is very open minded and liberal person. I got good education but I decided to follow my passion. My father was against it. He wanted me to study LLB. Infact he made me gave the entrance exam and even took my admission in one of the reputed law college. I have been very good at arts since I was kid. I have won a national award as well. My mom always supported me and encouraged me to do well in that field but my dad never did. I remember my mom used to make efforts to look for art classes in town during summer vacation and made sure I join it. My dad never did any of that. I didnt have a bitter relationship with him because of all this.
I decided to start my own business after working for a couple of months in corporate. I realised that finance is not what I like. My mom supported me a lot, paid fees for the course I wanted to do and even supported me for a few months in the beginning of my new career. Dad was still against it. He slowly got convinced that it wasnt a bad decision as I was single handedly making good money.
I got married after a few years but my inlaws arent supportive. We dont stay with them. Since my husband is the only child his parents always expect him to visit them often. I dont share a good relationship with my mil because her expectation from me is to give her a grandchild (specifically a baby boy). She doesnt give a damn or feels proud of her dil or the work she does.
Yesterday my husband decides to visit his parents for some work which can be totally avoided. By the way just last week we all went for a holiday. This means I will have to stay alone for two days. I have some commitments with my clients and it wasnt possible for e travel with him. My husband has done this a lot in past when his mom wasnt well but I understood that time. This time he planned his trip in merely 20 mins without even discussing with me. He just asked me for the sake of asking if I was okay with it. I am not doing mentally well these days and I need someones emotional support. I called up my mom and told her about it. I almost cried when I told my mom about it. My dad was hearing our conversation and he told me that I should quit working and ask for 50k a month from my husband. According to him its my responsibility to take care of my inlaws and my work is a hindrance to my constant fight with my husband (our fights are always because of how his parents always try to interefere in our personal life). I felt disguted hearing this from his mouth. This was coming from someone whose mother was a working woman, whose sister went abroad in early 80s and built a career for herself. My mom got furious too. She always wants me to work and be independent. I always have her support but this incident came as a shocker to me. Someone I respected and admired so much blamed his own daughter for not fulfilling her responsibilities. I have realised one thing that no matter how educated the society will be, women will always be opressed because apparently the society thinks that our first responsibility should be to look after our family and career.

My gf, almost a decade older than me (20) sadly had many cases of grooming (induced by her “father” in her teenage years, and I really am willing to be supportive. I want her to be able to overcome that past trauma. I was and still am very proud of her for going to therapy. She gets molested at work but is afraid to report anything because she fears that she might lose her job.
When she told me about that disgusting boss I advised her to protect her boundaries and tell him that she wants to have her personal space and that she will not tolerate any unprofessional behavior or any harassment in her work environment.
She later on told me that she did that by making a joke out of it, and that he was uncomfortable and left afterwards. And I am proud of her for taking that courage but it just leaves a bad aftertaste for me. It’s like okay he went away like the countless times before that but u can’t put ur wellbeing in the hand of others. That’s just dumb, establish boundaries, get help, do anything. But don’t make a joke out of it or light out of it. I am worried that this situation could escalate if she is so passive about it.
Now she told me that I’m a tactless a**hole missing empathy. And at first I believed her, I was like yeah it’s hard to get another job that pays in that segment. And he is her boss so he could after that try to fire her or harm her career in other ways. But after thinking about our social system (live in a first world European country) talking with my older sister who is her age, my mom, two good female friends and colleagues of mine. I only got the same reaction I had. That she is dumb for being scared, that she should seek help before it escalates. I don’t know what to say, what to do.
I’m just tired, the guilt tripping is also used when I shared my real feelings for her deceased father after she asked me. I hate him, I can’t bring myself to talk positive about someone who abused his daughter for many years, infused the mindset in her that she is nothing but a living peace of meat. Not raping her himself but taking her with him to parties when she was 14/15-18 and filling her up, so his friends/colleagues could have their way with her. Which resulted in many unhealthy sexual encounters afterwards in her adult life.
Because of him she had to endure so much harm and hardship in her life. I just can’t lie to her so she feels better. After that I was a tactless a**hole who tries to take the last fond memories of her father from her. And that I also have contact with my abusive dad, how it is unfair. I told her think whatever you want of ur dad, but I’m more than just happy that my potential children will not know this person.
I love her, but I can’t watch her doing nothing about her situation, not wanting me to do something, I don’t wanna be with an all time victim, and I don’t care who might call me names for that, I am ready to support her, be there for her and help her to better her situation and environment, but I’m not watching by how she just stays in a dangerous situation and I also will be honest even though it sounds very insecure, I’m not planing on staying together with someone who does not better her position, but instead makes me feel like the biggest misogynistic, tactless empathy missing prick. I do not like another man touching my gf like that and her “tolerating” this behavior.
I can’t deal with this glorification of her father or abusive ex partners while I shall for ever be the harm wanting bad partner. No matter how understanding, patient or slow I am with her. My opinion, my feelings. I feel like they don’t matter at all..

not even haunting it’s like running the show at this point. getting a name legally changed is a long and challenging process and i’m in a position where i don’t have a mailing address currently which makes it even more difficult. i don’t think using my parents address is wise bc my mom opens all of my mail and would not be on board with me legally changing my name (she has barely started calling me my “nickname”).
i got a job that i’m super excited for and it was offered to me by someone i’ve been seeing, but that means that he now knows my gov name bc i have to put it on all of my fucking paperwork, and thinking about him knowing my deadname/that mame popping into his head when he looks at me makes me feel like shit & want to break things off with him. i am also trying to travel and stay with hosts in exchange for labor, but this is requiring me to tell them all my deadname and it’s like the same situation. once people know that name, i know they’re going to think about it every time they look at me and that feels so awful. plus in jobs i’ve had previously, i’ve gotten weird comments and interactions about “i know your real name.”
UGH!!!! people in the same boat, how do y’all cope with this? i’m very much struggling.

TL;DR My wife feels guilty when I give her gifts and I don't know what to do anymore.
Hey guys, I need some advice on this because I don't know what else to do. Sorry for any errors in advance, English is not my main language.
Me (29F) and my wife (23F) have been married for almost two years now, and we have been together for almost four years in total. Unfortunately she had a bad childhood since her mom is literally the worst and always made her feel guilty about everything.
I love to give gifts, and so does she. Normally I give her gifts when it's her birthday, Christmas, and our wedding anniversary. Besides those specific times, I sometimes give her flowers.
She has always felt a little guilty receiving gifts due to her childhood, but she always got really happy receiving them, genuinely happy. But deep down she also felt guilty, and felt like she had to give me something that costed the same or above that price (keep in mind she knew the prices because it was stuff she already wanted and kept it in a wishlist, so she knew the prices beforehand).
This has gotten worse since I got my new job, that is now paying me really well, and I am finally able to give her better gifts. For our two year wedding anniversary I booked a weekend get out with a spa, private beach and everything, and she was really happy about it. Since it is our anniversary, I also wanted to give her something. She loves Deadpool, and Pandora just launched a collection with him, so I got her that. I also noticed she had a lot of makeup on her wishlist, so I thought about giving her something else, since now I am able to.
I asked her how she felt about it and she said she didn't want it. That she knew I already got her something and didn't even want me to get her something in the first place. I told her her we could reach a middle ground on me not giving her anything else for our wedding anniversary, but she was really upset saying that she didn't even want the other gift in the first place. This turned into a little argument and she told me that she would never be able to give me something like that (price wise) and that she felt even more guilty.
Maybe I am in the wrong here, I don't know, I don't think not buying her gifts is the solution here, but she seems to not want to reach a middle ground with me. I know she feels guilty about receiving gifts, and now I think it's worse because she thinks she will never be able to give me expensive things.
What should I do? Any advice on this? I love her and want to spoil her, but I don't want her to feel bad either. She is already being seen by a psychiatrist for a while, they have talked about it but not a lot.
Thanks in advance.

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Hello! This is my Ficnapping of Curing Malpractice by u/Cummy_wummys, which can be found Here!
Writing my own take on their novel about Novel was quite the novel experience. Hope you enjoy!
Also I'm going to collapse into bed the second I upload this, so apologies if I don't respond to any comments for several hours.
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Memory Transcription Subject: Novel, Eager Kolshian Scientist
Date {standardized human time}: October 20th, 2136

Maybe I shouldn’t have stayed up that late into my rest claw. Sometimes I just can’t help it, I get so absorbed in one little avenue of research that the claw begins to slip past. I check the time a while later and, what do you know, the heat death of the universe is drawing just that little bit closer. Was it a bad idea to waste so much time learning about the history of Human clothing? Probably. Was it ever so slightly traumatizing, especially the earlier history? You bet it was. Will I probably do something similar in the near future? Absolutely.
I won’t let my moderately sleep-deprived state stand in the way though, for I have been invited to partake in a Human tradition this paw. It is an honour, one that I must take seriously, and approach with reverence. It is a sign that the Humans have come to trust me, welcoming me into their herd. Of course, I already had my own herd with Ada, Sindre and Hailey, and I’d had pleasant interactions with others such as Bella and Max, but I mean the Humans as a whole! To be fair, it’s probably been apparent that the Humans have been warming up to me for some time… if their insistence of suffocating me with photos of their children was anything to go by.
I shiver at the thought. Never again.
I push that train of thought aside as I approach the security checkpoint to the refugee centre, finding Ledo in his usual place. The Jaur security guard is half slumped over in his chair, absentmindedly scrolling through something on his holopad. I give him a friendly sway of my tail as I approach the checkpoint, and he barely seems to muster up the energy to turn an ear my way.
“Good paw, Ledo. Are you alright?”
He places his holopad down and rubs one of his eyes with a paw.
“Just running on empty over here. My break paws can’t come fast enough.”
I sign my sympathy as I grab my visitor’s badge.
“You’re doing a great job, top notch security officer, really. You’ve earned your rest, and then some.”
He covers his mouth with a paw as he yawns.
“Thanks… enjoy the whole predator watching thing, or whatever it is you do in that place.”
“Thank you! Enjoy your shift… as much as you can.”
With a slightly awkward chuckle, I waste no time in heading into the refugee centre. Just to be safe though… I push open the doors and quickly dash to the side, expecting something to come flying at me like what usually happens. This time though, my precautions seem unnecessary. The lobby is empty, devoid of the children and adults that typically mingle around in it at this time. As I take a few tentative, confused steps inside as the doors close behind me, I realize the reason why. Ada said that the activity I’d been invited to partake in took place outside, in the small courtyard I’d heard mentioned here and there around the centre. Everyone must simply already be outside. Following that notion, I pick up my pace as I walk through the hallways, finding the back door that leads to the courtyard soon enough.
My presumption had been right, as when I go outside I’m greeted with the sound of Human laughter, specifically the moderately pitched squeals and giggles of Human children. The courtyard wasn’t all that large, but by no means cramped, with many children and adult Humans alike enjoying the fresh Venlilian air. Scanning the area, I quickly locate Ada, who is currently engaged in quite an odd-looking activity with Sindre. They are standing on opposite sides of what appears to be a bedsheet suspended between two poles, ties at its four corners so that it's stretched almost flat. They are both holding objects that seem vaguely familiar to me, and which I soon recognize as ‘rackets’, which I’d come across before when researching Human activities on the internet.
“Sindre! Ada!”
They turn to look at me as I rush over to them, faces soon breaking out into wide smiles. Sindre walks towards the bed sheet, bending over to pick up a small yellow ball laying in the grass, while Ada walks over to meet me.
“Heya Nov’, glad you decided to join us today.”
“Well, I couldn’t deny an invitation to be involved in a Human tradition!”
She smirks at my response.
“Tradition? Yeah sure, guess tennis counts as one.”
Information acquired: A name for this event.
“Tennis… It sounds fascinating!”
By now, Sindre has walked over to join us. He lightly taps the racket and yellow ball together, which upon closer inspection seems to be strangely fuzz, with a white line running around it in a wavy pattern.
“You made it just as we were about to start another rally. I’m not the best at tennis, so it’d probably be best for Ada to show you the ropes.”
As he says this, Sindre offers the racket out to me. My eyes go wide and my tail flicks with excitement at the gesture, and I securely wrap two of my tentacles around the handle, making sure that it won’t slip from my grip.
“Ooooo! What do I do with this?”
Ada steps away, back towards the suspended bed sheet.
“You go stand where Sindre just was, I’ll walk you through it. Oh, and don’t mind the bed sheet. We don’t exactly have a proper net.”
I rush over to stand in the spot assigned to me, while Ada mirrors my position on her side of the bed sheet. Sindre tosses the yellow ball her way, and to my surprise she easily catches it with one hand. Well, that was certainly a lucky catch, and an accurate throw from Sindre. Before I can dwell on it though, Ada calls out again.
“Lets just start with the basics. In tennis, you use the rackets to hit the ball when it comes to your side of the court, er- bed sheet. You want to hit it so that it flies over the net and lands on my side, where I’ll try and hit it back to you, repeating until one of us either misses the ball or hits it into the net. If that happens, your opponent gets a point.”
I try and emulate the Human ‘nodding’ expression while listening to Ada. That sounds like an interesting activity… there is just one problem.
“Um, alright. How exactly are we supposed to hit the ball?”
“Just make sure to angle the racket so that the ball shoots back to my side, alright? Since you’re new to this, I’ll go easy on you and just start simple.”
That… didn’t really answer my question. I’m unsure how I’m expected to reliably position my racket to make contact with the yellow ball. Even so, I won’t question the Human. I’ve been invited to partake in this ‘tennis’, so I will accept the opportunity with gusto. Ada shifts her stance slightly, before lightly tossing the ball into the air. As it comes back down, she lifts the racket to meet it, and the ball is sent up and forwards. Alright, here goes nothing.
I lift the racket up into the air and rush towards the bed sheet. As the ball sails over the makeshift barrier, it hits the plastic edge of my racket and falls back down onto Ada’s side. I hear a snicker coming from Sindre, and I lower the racket again as Ada retrieves the ball, my tail wagging.
“Did I do that right?”
Before Ada can respond, Sindre buts in.
“If it worked against Ada, it must be a viable strategy.”
The German briefly glared at him before clearing her throat.
“Well Nov’, running at the net with your racket above your head isn’t going to work in a proper game. You need to figure out where the ball is heading, move there, and then hit it with the racket with the right amount power at the right angle to send it back.”
Oh, sure, might I extinguish the sun while I’m at it? Cure every disease along the way? Of course, I don’t voice these thoughts out loud. Instead, I simply give Ada another nod. She repeats her previous ritual of tossing the ball up into the air before bringing the racket up to meet it. This time, the ball doesn’t come straight on, but veers off to the right. I take a couple hurried steps that way and hold out the racket in the hopes that I judged the ball’s movement correctly. To no one’s surprise, I did not, and the ball thuds into the grass.
“No worries Nov’, let’s try again.”
After I haphazardly throw the ball back to her (and she effortlessly catches it with one hand), Ada hits the ball my way again. This time, the ball veered slightly to the left. A mirror of what happened last time, the ball misses my racket by a considerable margin. In my periphery, I vaguely register Sindre wearing a face of mild concern, though my focus is too homed in on not letting my frustration show to dwell on it. I’m making a fool of myself in front of the Humans.
“Sorry, I’ll hit it next time.”
The next time comes, and I unfortunately can’t stay true to my word. A similar thing happens again and again. Sometimes I just try to shove the racket below where I think the ball will go, other times I try waving it around madly in the hopes that it’ll make contact. It never does.
“One more time! I swear I’ll get it!”
They invited me to take part in this. The least I can do is not be a complete failure. Ada stops tossing to me, concern etched into her features.
“Are you alright Nov’? We don’t have to do this if you can’t-”
“No no, I can. It’s just- I’m a novice. You can’t expect me to just know how to calculate projectile motion in my head… I just need practice.”
Ada’s face morphs into one of confusion.
“Projectile motion… Novel, it’s not that complicated.”
I gawk at the Human incredulously. Before I can formulate a response though, a sigh coming from my left draws my attention back to Sindre. He’s rubbing his forehead with his hand, and sighs in realization.
“Eye placement. Depth perception.”
Ada’s eyes go wide at that, and a hand comes up to cover her mouth.
“Oh crap… Sorry Nov’, I didn’t really uh- consider that…”
I look back over to her, my brain still trying to piece together what Sindre meant. I recall how easily the Humans tossed and caught the ball with stunning accuracy, and how Ada seemed to be able have complete control over the ball with her racket while I struggled to even make contact…
Depth perception…
That… makes sense.
I can’t help but gurgle a little in laughter. So predatory eyes were useful for things outside of hunting… like tennis! I need to jot that down, and make sure to investigate that a little more later on.
“Hey Novel, you ok there?”
I’m snapped out of my thoughts by Sindre’s voice. I give him a friendly tail wag and walk over to him.
“Of course, I’m fine. I’m sorry that I’m incapable of taking part in this.”
I offer the racket back to him, which he takes with a little hesitation when he sees the mucus covering the handle. Ada walks over to the two of us, rubbing the back of her neck in embarrassment.
“Sorry for all that Novel, we should’ve chosen something else to show you.”
I quickly turn to her and wave my tentacles in a placating manor.
“No, don’t be sorry! I’m honored that you wished to share the wonders of tennis with me. You two go ahead and enjoy it, I’ll just sit off to the side and make notes on the uses of binocular vision outside of hunting.”
I feel myself deflate slightly. I had been excited to play a part in a Human tradition, but it seems that I just… can’t. Not on my own volition, at least. Perhaps the Humans can sense my disappointment, because Sindre and Ada share a glance before the former speaks up.
“Nov’, you don’t have to-”
I interrupt him by wrapping a tenacle around both their backs and lightly nudging them towards their respective sides of the bed sheet.
“I insist! Don’t worry about me, I’m a graceful loser.”

Memory Transcription Subject: Novel, Sore Loser
Date {standardized human time}: October 21st, 2136

The Venlil I pass on the street are giving me odd looks, all the while I hold my head up high with pride as many of them turn around to do a second take of what I am wheeling behind me. It may be a teensy, tiny bit more complicated than some of the other things I’d previously brought with me to the shelter, but that was only because I had put my tentacles to good use. The splinters I had gotten in the process were testament to that. Should I have focused on getting a little more sleep during my rest claw? Maybe. Is this thing being held together by nothing but hope and super glue? Only the very best. Would the absolute joy that it’ll put on the Humans’ faces be worth it? You bet it will be!
As I wheel my creation past the security checkpoint, I find Ledo staring at his holopad with his head resting on his paws, eyelids drooping. When he spots me approaching, his ears perk up slightly, only for him to raise his head upon seeing my creation. He puts down his holopad and sits up in his chair, trying to get a better view of it.
“Hello Ledo! How are you? Have you gotten some rest?”
For a moment he doesn't respond, only for him to shake his head and rub his eyes.
“Novel, do I even want to know what that thing is?”
“It’s what will allow me to stand on par with the Humans and engage with them on an even playing field. I spent some of my last rest claw building it.”
Ledo looks back over to me.
“And uh, how much is ‘some’, exactly?”
I wave a tentacle dismissively.
“Irrelevant detail. Trust me, it’ll all be worth it. When I leave the shelter later this paw, I’ll tell you all about it.”
Ledo leans back in his chair with a sigh.
“Well, at least it’d be something other than binging movies. You’re a bit of a weirdo, have I told you that yet?”
“Why thank you! Have a nice shift.”
I bid farewell to the Jaur and my final approach to my destiny begins. Victory is so close I can almost taste it.
The lobby is empty again this paw, so I head right on through while towing my creation behind me. I pass a couple Humans along the way, who I give friendly greetings to as they marvel at my ingenious solution to the problem that had plagued me last paw. Since I’ve arrived a little later this paw (courtesy of a productive rest claw), I waste to time in heading directly to the back of the centre and out onto the grassy courtyard that had been the location of last paw’s utter failure. I will not allow that to happen again!
“Ah, welcome to the courtyard Nov-… Uh, what’s that you got behind you?”
Max’s friendly tone gives way to curiosity, and I feel the pride already beginning to swell just a little more. He was just in the middle of a round of the dreaded ‘tennis’ with Ada, who is on the opposite side of the makeshift net, which she leans over once she spots me.
“Novel… why do you have a catapult?”
It seems that my wonderful creation is also garnering interest from many of the children as well, who briefly stop their various running games to watch me. I finish wheeling the mini catapult into place and take out a tennis ball from my bag (turns out I had already purchased one, thanks past me!) while I finally answer Ada.
“So that I may properly partake in your Human traditions, of course! How can I study them if I can’t even participate? This little thing will allow me to successfully serve a ball to you in just a moment, no depth perception required! Watch and see.”
I place the tennis ball into the cup and begin cranking the lever to wind up the device. Max starts looking a little nervous as I do so.
“Um, Nov’? Are you sure that thing is going to work? Is it even safe?”
The homemade gears turn with a slight clacking sound, which tells me that it’s working just as expected… though Max does make me wonder briefly if I should’ve done a test run of this first… oh well, too late for that.
“Don’t worry, I know precisely what I’m do-”
I’m cut off by the rather disconcerting sound of splintering wood. I only have enough time to faintly register that the sound came from my creation, and that said realization is very bad. A resounding SNAP and the disappearance of the tennis ball at approximately Mach 5 tells me that I did not know the tensile strength of Venlilian wood as well as I thought. The rest of the world has gone silent, and I slowly turn my gaze in the direction the ball had preemptively flown, finding Max standing as still as a statue with the tennis ball resting on the ground in front of him. The silence is broken as the Human lets out a whining sound higher pitched than even the smallest of Dossur can produce, before falling to his knees and grasping his groin in obvious agony.
Some of the slightly older kids cringe in sympathy.
Ada tries not to laugh.
Max steadily raises his hand, pointing a shaky digit at me. His voice comes out squeaky, and pained.
“K-kids… avenge me…”
The children’s eyes lock onto me. I learn what true fear feels like.
All at once, the children let out their war cries, and began rushing over to me. I let out a shriek of my own as I turn back towards the refugee centre and start running like my life depends on it because it probably does! I don’t dare look back at the pack of predators pursuing me, I simply run through the back doors of the centre and sprint down the corridor as fast as I physically can. Even so, I know for a fact that it is not fast enough. I’ve studied Humans enough to know that they are built for chasing prey. Right now, that prey is me!
I try to lose the children by utilizing the building’s layout as best I can. I turn past several corners without slowing down, run up the stairs and even hide behind a pot plant at one point, startling an adult Human as I do so, who quickly rushes back inside their room. I make a mental note to apologize to them later, and file it right under ‘RUN FOR YOUR LIFE! GO GO GO!’
I hear it, the sound of light but determined footsteps plonking their way up the stairs. They’ve found me. This pot plant isn’t going to help me at all! I abandon my frankly pathetic hiding spot and dash further down the hallway, determining that my best shot at survival will be to get back to the main lobby and run out through the front do-
A dead end.
No…
Oh no…
The sound of footsteps grows closer. Just a single pair, but that is more than enough to seal my fate. I push myself against the wall, terror coursing through my mind. This was supposed to be a showcase of how much I respected Humans, I didn’t mean to injure one! Is this really it? Is this really how it all ends? Sought out and killed to avenge the fallen? I-I never got to publish my completed study on Human traditions… or binocular vision… or diets or facial express- a whole lot of things actually!
The footsteps pause, and the sound of giggling breaks me out of my mental spiral. There, standing before me, grinning ear to ear, is a familiar Human child.
“Found you!”
“D-David?”
Still grinning, the young boy reaches out a hand towards me. I push myself as far against the wall as I can go.
“W-wait, David! I-I-I thought we got along well! We watched that horrible movie together, remember? We can read that book about cattle again if you want! Or-or anything you want, really! P-please, don’t d-do this!”
I close my eyes tightly, and prepare myself for the end…
…
A hand lightly taps one of my tentacles, then retracts.
“Tag! You’re it.”
I crack open an eye.
“Wh-what?”
David is already running away from me, giggling again. As he reaches the stairs, he calls out as loud as he can, voice carrying further into the refugee centre.
“Guys! I got her! Novel’s it now!”
…
…
What?

(Cong Rats u/Xerxes250! You've been FICNAPPED, EKEKEKEK! Thanks to u/Espazilious, u/CaptainMatthew1, and u/T00Dense for supporting me in Group 3 of the Ficnapping!
That's right, I've Ficnapped Hazardous Recovery, a very well-written fic. I'd recommend it to those looking for a more... tech-inspired fic.
So, enjoy the dumb stuff.)
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Memory Transcription Subject: Kimmich, currently dying inside
Date [standardized human time]: October 25, 2136
If I had been made aware that one of the first days we were on Earth was going to be spent sitting in a predator's house, looking at sheets of paper, and listening to said predator prattle on about silly plastic shapes with numbers on them I'd have refused the trip as a whole. The whole concept seemed like a massive waste of time, not only for us but for him too. Unfortunately, I was trapped here by the whims of Vemnka and Sevkan, and they never let up a chance to see new human past times.
Andre, for his part, had been slow with us, letting us ease into the new living situation with relative laxity on where we were allowed to go. We'd already watched a few movies, played a few "video games", and even listened to some of his music. It was... enjoyable. Even with the obvious attempts to cover up a whole heap of predatory behaviors, Andre had managed to get us feeling somewhat welcome.
Until he had us sit at his kitchen table and write out the Venlilian numerical system, to which he responded with a chuckle, "Looks like Skaven Scratch." He did not elaborate. At first, I thought the exercise was going to be a simple lesson on how to read human numbers. But no, it was far worse. Instead, Andre went to his workshop, scanned all the numbers, and began printing a bunch of geometric prisms with the numbers on them. Vemnka was the first to ask about their purpose as she picked up a dodecahedron, each side holding a numeral.
"Well, I figured we'd play a game, and these," he held up a worn version of the same shape Vemnka was holding, this one with human numbers on it, "are how we play."
Not even a minute later we were watching as he 'rolled' the 'dice' across a little pad on the table. "So, basically, these dice, the 'd6's will help us make our characters. I use the '4d6 minus the lowest rolled' method for stats, but there are other ways to do it."
Sevkan picked up a triangular prism and poked his paw pad with it. "And what about the rest of them," he asked as he tossed the plastic shape onto the pad.
"The one you just rolled is a 'd4', it's a damage dice. Same with the d6, 'd8', 'd10', and 'd12'. This," he held up a dice with ten sides, but with two separate numbers on each face, "is a percentile dice. Helps when I need to see what outcome happens when a random encounter starts, though we'll not be using it because we're doing a oneshot." He flicked it up with a click and caught it. Next, he picked up the same dodecahedron as before and rolled it. "Ouph, nat 1, less than ideal when starting a game."
"What does that mean," I asked, looking down at the twenty-sided dice; the side displaying '1' was facing up.
"A nat 1 is the worst roll on a 'd20'. It's a critical failure, which means if you roll a nat 1, something bad happens." He rolled it again as he talked, "The d20 is the most used dice because it's the 'check dice', you use it to figure out how well you did on an action. For instance," he reached across the table for a sheet of paper. Looking it over, I could see it was a 'character sheet', as Andre called them. "This is the strength stat," He pointed at a block on the left side of the paper, "It shows how strong your character is. If I were to roll this d20 and get a 13, but your strength stat is a 14, plus whatever save modifier you have, then I'd fail the check and either nothing would happen, or you'd get a reaction to my failure." He shifted his weight as he reached for the ground. With a plap, Andre brought up a hardbacked book. My translator had a bit of difficulty translating the text due to the font, but in the end, it spat out 'D&D Player's Handbook'. A small script of subtext under the cover art, which I ignored due to its content, read 'Everything a player needs to create heroic characters for the world's greatest roleplaying game.'
"A roleplaying game," Vamnka asked before Sevkan or I could formulate the words.
"Yep! A TTRPG, Dungeons and Dragons, D&D. I played this once or twice before my accident with the reactor room, but I think I still remember enough to DM for it."
This time Sevkan asked the question, "TTRPG and DM?"
"Tabletop roleplaying game, and Dungeon Master. I run the game, so I'm the dungeon master." He laid out three sets of three pieces of paper at each seat. It had the same words and markings as the one before him. "So, as I said, we're doing a one-shot because I can't be bothered with doing a whole ass campaign. Plus you won't be here forever and we have work to do at some point."
"I'll be making your characters with input from each of you. We're doing basic fifth edition rules because the newer editions, sixth up to ninth, all suck." He grabbed four of the d6 and held them aloft, looking at Sevkan, then Vemnka, and finally landing his gaze on me. I felt my fur rise but paid it no mind as he looked down at the dice before him. "Vemnka, you're going first." He picked up and tossed the dice to Vemnka who scrambled to grab all four before they had a chance to fall off the table.
"So, I just... toss them?" The quizzical flap of her left ear was met by a curt nod from Andre. "Alright," she said as her paw flicked the dice across the table. One landed on 1, another on 2, another on 3, and the final one on 6. "Twelve in total," she announced.
"Good, now remove the lowest number rolled and mark it down somewhere on the back of your sheet."
After five more rolls, Vemnka's stats totaled 11 in strength, 15 in intelligence, another 15 in constitution, 16 in wisdom, 16 in charisma, and 13 in dexterity.
Next was my turn. I rolled a 13, which I put into dexterity, a 14 in constitution, a 15 in charisma, a 16 in strength, another 16 in wisdom, and a 12 in intelligence.
Finally, Sevkan rolled a 12, which was placed in dexterity, a 13 in charisma, a 16 in constitution, a 10 in both wisdom and intelligence and, as Andre put it, the ever elusive 18 was put in strength.
With all that tedious, boring, unimportant, and downright torturous work out of the way, now was the time to get into character creation. Andre gave us the book to look over and told us to ask any questions we wanted if we needed to. I pulled up my pad's visual translator and began skimming the text.
-====================================-
Memory Transcription Subject: Vemnka, having the time of her life!
The book wasn't big, not by a long shot. I'd read books three to four times as long in [a day] or two. What the book contained, however, was an entirely different story. It wasn't just a rulebook, or handbook, as the cover suggested, it was a way to shape the wild imagination, to tame the itch to create.
And by the stars am I creating!
Andre told us we'd start by choosing class, race, and background. Of course, we had no idea what that meant, so he took us through it one at a time at a leisurely pace. He flipped through the book's pages before landing near the beginning, showcasing a stout-looking human with the undertext 'Dwarf' printed to the left.
After running through all of the vaguely human-like races to pick and a few classes that would shape our table-side adventure, I'd chosen to be a gnome cleric, which was a humorous choice. Andre said I'd primarily be healing, helping my team by keeping them in battle. I didn't mind the idea of being a sideliner, as long as I could help.
Dad had chosen to be a human 'paladin'. Andre explained that the term equated pretty easily to a form of holy guardian, in the form of a mortal, who the god of their faith gifted to defend those around them. Dad thought is was a pretty cool idea, especially the idea of "burning heretics away with holy fire," as Andre put it. It took him a bit longer to choose his race because he kept returning to the page with the almost-Arxur-looking Dragonborn. Still, after some coaxing, he finally let up on whatever was going on in his head and chose the easiest option, and the one Andre had recommended.
Finally, Sevkan had looked a bit farther into the game itself, finding a non-classified databook called "Player's Companion". Andre described it as a supplemental read, adding a bit more variety to the already large amount of options presented in the Player's Handbook. Sevkan took one look at it and immediately chose the Aarakocra, causing Andre to flinch. He said it'd be fine because the Aarakocra looked nothing like Krakotl, but Sevkan still apologized as best he could. He chose the fighter class, which was about as self-explanatory as possible.
Next was backgrounds, I chose to be an acolyte. It made sense in my head that a religious healer would have a background in religion. Dad leaned toward Folk Hero as his background, an option that both he and Andrew agreed would suit his character. Sev chose to be a hermit, which caught me and dad off guard after Andre gave us a rough rundown of what it was. An isolationist fighter, the sort of stuff that got you locked away.
"Alright," Andre said, leaning forward, looking between each of us again. I noticed Dad's fur rise a bit less than last time. Progress is progress. "We've got a Gnome Cleric, a Human Paladin, and an Aarakocra Fighter. Pretty good party dynamics for your first time even hearing about DnD. Now, for the most part, we've done everything we need to do together. From here you would have normally gone through stats and equipment, but I don't want to, and this is a oneshot so those aren't that important. Vem, on that last sheet, please mark down 'Spare the Dying', 'Sacred Flame', and 'Guidance'. Kimmich, on your last sheet, mark down 'Lay on Hands', 'Divine Smite', and 'Divine Sense'. Sev... you can just throw that sheet away. You won't be moving past where you are now."
Sevkan looked down at the sheet with a hint of sadness. To be fair to him, 'Spare the Dying' and 'Divine Smite' sounded cool, but before I could ask what they meant, Dad beat me to it. "What are these for? What do you mean?"
Andre rolled a D20 absent-mindedly, "Spare the Dying is a Cleric Cantrip that stabilizes a person who's taken fatal damage and is rolling death saves. Divine Smite is that whole 'BURN IN HOLY FIRE' thing I was talking about. Depending on how you flavor it, it's you wrapping your weapon in divine fire and burning away at your enemy's soul."
Despite his previous misgivings, ones which were practically plastered over his fur, Dad seemed honestly interested in the concept behind the Divine Smite. "And I just get to use it? Any time I want?"
"Well, not really." Andre pointed a finger toward me. "She has three cantrips which can be used at any time, you only have two. Divine Smite is an actual spell, as in its magic that requires you to utilize a spell slot. Lay on Hands is a contrip that can heal and Divine Sense allows you to detect certain types of creatures based on their alignment. Good and Evil in particular."
Sev spoke up, displaying confusion with his ears. "So why don't I get any spells or cantrips?" There was a degree of disappointment in his voice.
Andre leaned back with a chuckle, flexing his dexterous prosthetics as he clutched the d20 he'd been rolling. "Because, as a fighter, you probably have the most useful ability of them all. It's called 'Second Wind' and its essentially Lay on Hands but only you gain from it. It's an ability you can only use once per short rest, which we won't be needing to get into, which heals you for 1d10 plus your level, which all of you will be set at level 2.
"Again, we won't need much of the stuff in the books because this is A. Your first time and I want it to be fun, and B. A oneshot where nothing matters and we're here to have a good time. So, real quick," Andre grabbed a d8s and a d10 and began rolling them. "Vem," the d8 clacked across the table, landing on a 4, "you've got 15 health total. Because you're a light class, always expect to be on the lower side of health. Kimmich, you've got," he rolled the d10, it landed on an 8, "20 health, not a bad roll. And finally Sevkan," the d10 rolled across the table once more, the 5 side facing up. "18 health. Not too bad either, given your ability to heal yourself."
"How did you get those numbers," I asked, looking across the table at each of our sheets.
"While you all were reading, I put your modifiers where they belong, and changed what needed to be changed with your stats." Andre leaned over and pointed at Dad's sheet, "I increased each of your scores by one because you're human." He moved to mine, "I increased your intelligence by two." Then he moved to Sevkan's "And I increased your dexterity by 2 and wisdom by one. I made a slight mistake when asking you guys to roll, as usually, you'd choose race and class before putting your stat rolls anywhere, but you all seem to have put them in pretty good spots."
The three of us gave Andre amused looks, to which he raised an eyebrow. "Humans get an additional point in everything?" Sev asked with a small whistling laugh.
"Oh, uh. Yeah, now that there are actual other intelligent races in the galaxy that doesn't look too good does it?"
"It's fine," I said. It was plenty understandable, thinking you're the best at everything you do when there's no one to compare to. "So are we going to start?"
"Yep! Just one more thing. Weapons and armor are important to this, even if you don't have to use them all the time." Andre flipped to a page with a list of item names which I couldn't make ears or tails of. I recognized 'sword', 'bow', and 'spear' as ancient primitive weapons, but other than that everything else escaped me.
"I'm noting a lot of confusion. Anything you need to know?" Andre looked at us expectantly.
"What's a 'maul'," came Sevkan's response.
"Oh, that's a term for a large, two-handed warhammer. Usually, it's depicted as spiked on both ends. Imagine a very large, very crude sledgehammer with spikey bits."
"And a 'glaive'?" Dad asked next.
"I assume you know what a sword is?" We flicked our ears in affirmation. "Well, it's essentially a curved sword attached to a pole. It's made to look a specific way, if it wasn't then it'd probably just be called a Dao. Or maybe the Dao would be called a glaive. Maybe Glaive is just a type of polearm. I have no idea. Anyway, to speed this up, I'll be choosing the weapons and armor you can have for you, and don't worry, I'll use your attitudes as a reference for what you get. For you, Vemnka, I think the mace and shield combo will do nicely with the scale mail. Kimmich, you'd work well with two long swords to accompany your chainmail armor. And finally, Sevkan, a halberd with your chainmail will work fine. Sound good to everyone?"
I was a little disappointed at the stolen opportunity to continue building my character, I'd yet to come up with a name or backstory, as I was sure was the norm, but with the idea of starting taking center stage, I couldn't help but wag my tail.
-====================================-
Memory Transcription Subject: Sevkan, going down the rabbit hole
Andre put a thin plastic sheet over most of the table, took out a bundle of markers, and began drawing, much to our collective surprise.
The sheet was was smooth and cool to the touch, though not through any internal system, probably just from the back of the garage where Andre had found it. It had a grid printed over it, which Andre seemed to be using as a guide as he drew a boxy shape, marking certain areas with certain colors. There must have been a system he was following, one that none of us Venlil in the room had managed to pick up on, and we didn't want to interrupt Andre as we worked in case we caused him to mess up.
I looked over my character sheet, made mostly by Andre with small additions I felt like I needed to add. I still felt a little bad for not realizing how raw the image of a Krakotl must have been to Andre as I chose the Aarakocra, but he'd brushed it off swiftly and curtly, clearly not wanting to continue the line of thought. Still, I should've chosen a different race. The goliath looked cool and probably would have been a better fighter than a bird with hollow bones, but I also didn't want to drag the others much longer, so I kept silent.
At long last Andre stood at his full height and analyzed his work. "There we go. The battle map is set up, now for the tokens." He reached into his back pocket and pulled out three little white objects. I immediately recognized them as chess pieces. A rook, a knight, and a bishop were placed on the table, along with a dozen white pawns, some of which came from a different chess set, and four black pawns as well as a black king. The black pawns were marked with the colors, yellow, beige, green, and white. We quietly agreed which pieces we would be. Dad would be the knight, I would be the rook, and Vemnka would be the bishop.
Andre sat down and we began. "Alright, I've decided to pull the classic 'wake up in a tavern' DnD start because it's funny and I also didn't exactly plan this. So here we go. Please leave your questions for after I'm done talking."
"You wake up, each of you, around a wooden table in a comfortable tavern with candles above you and empty tankards before you. You look at each other and recognize if only barely, the friends you made last night through a bout of drinking and dancing. You feel the roaring of a hangover in your head as you each groan and attempt to lift your heads."
Andre pointed at the chess pieces, which must have represented our characters. "Please roll constitution to see if the hangover affects you in any major way. It's a d20 plus the number below the stat itself."
We looked at each other with slight confusion. Not at the command to roll, nor for its circumstance, but for the setting. Is this a human board game? I mean, I guess I expected something more akin to chess. but this is nothing like it. It's so... alien.
Dad rolled his d20 first; it landed on a 16, "An 18?"
"Yep, Kimmich, your character brushes off the hangover with ease. You still feel a buzzing in your head, but other than that, you're fit as a fiddle." Oh, I get it now. How interesting. I could see Dad and Vemnka twitch their ears in understanding as I rolled my d20.
It landed on 8. "Plus two, so an 11."
"Sevkan, your head hurts like hell but you're still able to function to a normal degree. If it weren't for your fellow drunkards you're sure you'd have to stumble around by your lonesome for a while."
Vemnka let out a laugh as she rolled her dice. While she had been aiming for the center of the table, the dice had other plans and shot off to the right, flying off the table and rolling under a stool in the kitchen. "Oops! I'll get it," she said, jumping out of her seat and lifting the stool. "It landed on 19," she beeped excitedly.
"Nope," Andre said, much to our surprise. "Rule two of dice: if it goes off the table, its results are null. I didn't make that rule, but I still follow it. Roll again."
Vemnka's ears drooped a bit, but she set herself and climbed back into her seat to roll again. This time the dice did as it was meant to and rolled across the table without falling off. It landed on... "A nat 20!"
"No shit?" Andre lept out of his chair to peer across the table toward the dice. "Well, I'll be damned, a 19 and a 20 in succession. Well, I guess you're just better than those other two. Your character's hangover is completely gone, you felt it for all but a second as you raise your head to see your Aarakocra companion still struggling with his."
"Is there anything I can do to help him?" She asked. Andre's lip curled upward slightly.
"Now you're getting it. It's a role-playing game. You have your roles, the ones you set up for yourself, and now you get to play them. And yes, there is something you can do to help. Roll me a medicine check. I'll add your modifier myself." The sound of a die rattling across the table ended with... "Another Nat 20?!"
We jumped at Andre's incredulous shout as he glared at the die before him. He seemed more angry at the dice than at Vemnka so I assumed we were probably not in trouble. How can we be? We didn't do anything that would make him angry. Why's he yelling?
"Sorry, but the chance of rolling two nat 20s in a row, while not astronomical, is pretty fucking low. Something like a one in four hundred chance, maybe more," Andre said, sitting back down and sighing deeply. "It's fine, just funny is all. Usually, RNJesus is on the DM's side, not the party's. Kinda nice to see a change of pace."
"RNJesus," we asked collectively.
"Don't worry about it, let's continue. Vemnka, you put your hand on Sevkan's shoulder and do some voodoo magic bullshit and pray to your god to heal his aching body. Miraculously, it works and Sevkan sits upright feeling light as a feather. The Aarakocra's headache is now on par with Kimmich's."
"Just like that?"
"Just like that, now let's get on with it. As Sevkan gets up and shakes off the remaining ebbing in his head, you all notice five less-than-reputable figures sitting in a booth at the far end of the tavern. Each wears a hood or cowl accompanied by a cloak, which hides their race and weapons from you, however, you can tell that one of them is considerably larger than the others. If you had to, you'd place it at about 226 cm (7'5") while those around it are around the average human height of 180 cm (6'0"). Roll me perception too."
We looked at each other at the description but shrugged it off as we rolled. I rolled a 7, Dad rolled a 19, and Vemnka rolled a 17.
"Both of you," he said, pointing at Vemnka and Dad with one hand, "See that they are pointing in your direction while the big one holds a piece of paper in his hand. It shows artistic renditions of the three of you, along with a long string of words you can't make out from your current distance. Kimmich, you hear them talking about a bounty and that you are the specified targets. Now it's time for you to react, how do you want to move forward?"
"Well," Vemnka said nervously. I could see her tail flick in my direction, looking for guidance, but I had none. "I suppose I'll confront them? I'm not sure what a bounty is exactly..."
"Really?"
We looked at Andre and the obviousness of the situation. If we didn't know what a word was, we knew it must have been predatory. "Right, sorry. Bounties are orders given to hired people to hunt people. For one reason or another, if someone wants someone dead then they'll place a bounty on their head. I'm not sure if it was ever actually a thing, but bounty hunters were popular during the Wild West days of the US. They usually brought criminals in for trial though, and usually didn't kill them."
"Okay, but why do they want us dead," Dad asked, his ears falling back slightly.
"That's the neat part, you have no idea," Andre said as he leaned forward and moved the green-tipped black pawn a space on the map. "Vemnka, as you get up, you notice that one of the figures is moving towards the door with slight urgency. Before you can make a move, however, the large figure stands up and doffs his cloak, revealing the tattooed grey skin of a Goliath wielding a greatsword in the executioner's style. He shouts over the tavern for everyone other than your group to leave immediately as things are about to get bloody. His three other goons, the one moving toward the door exempt, move in unison towards you. Roll initiative. It's a d20, same as all the others."
I looked toward my sister to see her tail freaking out, her bishop is the closest to the enemy party, meaning she was more likely to be targeted first. I had to protect her, not only because of our sibling relationship but also because she could heal us if we got hurt. The three of us rolled as one, I got a 10, Dad a 14, and Vemnka got a 4. Andre himself rolled a few dice before moving the chess pieces into place and writing down something on a sheet of paper. "Alright, perfect. Initiative rolled, time to start combat. First up, yellow pawn."
He moved the pawn toward Vemnka's bishop, immediately putting her in danger. "One of the vagabonds rushes you, Vemnka, and you see the flash of Tabaxi claws as they raise their hand to strike at you." Andre's dice rolled, clattering to a halt inside the pad on his end, obscuring the results. "Does a 14 hit?"
"How do I check that," she asked, her tail going even crazier. Though, I couldn't tell if it was excitement or panic.
"AC," Andre responded flatly, "Armor Class."
"Right, yep." She looked down at her paper and flicked he ears 'no' then shook her head.
"The Tabaxi's claws swipe right above your head and miss by a hair. You can even feel the air move past you as you flinch backward. Next, the Goliath moves toward you, hefting his greatsword. Kimmich, if looks could kill, you'd be halfway to Valhalla by now. He glares at you with a mighty fire in his eyes. It's hard to tell, but you think he might have it out for you. He takes a swing with his sword and..." Andre rolled and looked back up at the table, his eyes focusing rather intensely on the black king representing the Goliath. "Meh, Nat 1. He swings and you dodge, causing his swing to miss wildly and land on the Tabaxi nearby. She takes," he rolls, "A sizable chunk of damage as blood flows from her lower abdomen."
"Wouldn't she be writhing in pain right now," Dad asked, pointing to the yellow-topped pawn.
"In real life? Yes. Here? I control the game, and while she is certainly hurt, she still has enough will to fight. Money is a powerful incentive for some people, especially bandits and vagabonds. Next, Sevkan, you notice the flash of steel as a dehooded human rushes you with a shortsword in hand. He has a keen eye and sharp nose, but your reflexes are faster as you dodge his swipe. He stumbles a bit, but recovers before you have a chance to harm him." Andre looks at Dad, who doesn't even seem to register the human's gaze as he looks over his sheet. "Kimmich, it's your turn. You can attack, retreat, use a spell-"
"Divine smite the Goliath, I'll use Divine Smite on the Goliath."
Andre lets out a chuckling laugh, "Now we're talkin'. Let's do this. Roll for attack."
Dad rolled, and I watched as the dice skipped across the table and finally landed on 11. "Plus five, so 16."
"Very good, that is a successful hit. Please roll both damage and the Divine Smite's 2d8."
Dad rolled his d8 three separate times, coalescing in a massive 18 damage, a 7, an 8, and a 3. "18 damage total against the Goliath."
Andre did a weird whistle as he marked down the information on what I could only assume was the stat sheet for the enemies. "18 against big guy. Sevkan, your turn. D-"
"Actually," Dad interrupted, "it says here that I have an extra action and a bonus action."
"Oh."
"So I'm going to attack him again."
"Okay."
Dad rolled another d8 which landed 6 side up. "Another six damage and I end my turn."
"Thank you, finally. Sevkan, go, please. Attack or... Well, all you can do is attack." Andre leaned back in his chair, stare planted squarely on me. I looked down at my sheet for any actions I had. I had a normal and bonus action, and that was it. I looked at the section marked features and traits and noticed that I could do three actions with action surge. "Alright, I'll attack three times. Twice with my halberd using action surge and once with that dagger, you forgot to give everyone that we all had the option to take." I glared right back at him.
"Yes, I didn't give you all the tools you could have had because it would have just wasted more time. But fine, if you want to use it, fine. It's a d6 slashing damage."
I rolled the 2d10 for damage. One landed on 8 while the other landed on 9. My d6 lands true on a 4. "21 damage to the beige-tipped pawn. That's the human, right?"
"Yep," Andre nodded as he wrote down the damage. "You take two swipes at the human with your halberd, both connect with both his arms and torso, slowing him considerably. It's only when he remains standing that you pull your dagger from its sheath and plunge it into his chest. You miss his heart by millimeters, but it does the job as he collapses in a pool of blood. Congrats, first knockout of the game."
I shudder at Andre's description of my character, who might as well be interchangeable with a Krakotl, killing a man. A human, for that matter. I look over to see Dad glaring daggers at Andre and Vemnka staring at me worriedly. I wave her off with my tail and focus back on Andre.
"Retribution is in store for you, though, as an Elf leaps over a table with two daggers drawn, ready to avenge her slain comrade. She..." Andre rolls and whoops as he punches a fist into the air. "She comes down with blinding speed and rakes her metal blades across your chest," He rolls again and lets out a slightly disappointed 'oh' before continuing. "You take a total of 8 damage from the Elf's daggers."
Andre, once again, leans forward, this time to remove the beige-tipped pawn from the table and replace it with a red cross, as well as move the green tipped toward where all the white pawns were. I assumed the gap in the markings must have been a door, as Andre had moved all the white pawns out of it when combat started. The green pawn must be escaping or blocking ours. Either way, we have to deal with the three remaining in front of us before we can handle that one.
"I see gears turning, always a good sign, but let's continue. Vemnka your combat turn. Make it count. You can use your bonus action to heal or attack with your mace, it doesn't matter as long as you do a different action when using it."
Vemnka looks over at me, then to the board with a contemplative look. "I'd like to use my first action to bless the two of them, then I'd like to use my bonus action to bonk the -what did you call it?"
"A Tabaxi."
"Yeah, that, I want to bonk that." Her tail swayed with contentment as she rolled her damage dice. It rolled into the batch of white pawns before landing on 6.
"Ouph, 'fraid that's not gonna be enough to hit anyone, but, Kimmich, Sevkan, both of you can now roll a d4 to accompany your attack roll." He flicked his d4 into the air but somehow missed it as it fell. It clattered onto the table and got flung into the living room as Andre tried to grab it. "Fuck, alright, hold on. Damned carpet's gonna be the death of me."
He went looking for the die, leaving us Venlil staring at the table before us.
"So what do you think," I asked abruptly.
"I don't know," Dad responded, his tone careful but gruff. "It's very clearly predatory. I mean, we wake up in a tavern after a night of drinking so hard our heads feel like they're about to explode and once the hangover clears we've got a band of roughnecks out for blood from the get-go." He squinted at the chess pieces representing our characters, they were all next to each other. "And I can't even really argue that we should stop because I'm fine with what's being depicted. Even if his description of you... knocking out that human was a bit over the top, I think that's the point."
"I agree," Vemnka spoke up, "The whole game is very fantastical, not meant to be compared to real life. I mean, sure, the concept of bounty hunters is a real thing, but I don't think there are humans as tall as that Goliath walking around. Or whatever a Tabaxi is."
"Fantastical and weird. If those don't describe humanity, I don't know what does," I said with a bemused flick of my tail.
"How about tired of hearing you talk about me behind my back," Andre's voice shouted from behind the couch, where he was scrounging for the lost die. Finally, he seemed to have found it, poking his head out from the backrest and looking over at us. "I'm joking of course, I don't mind at all. Unless you're insulting my taste in music, then we'll have a problem."
"I-I mean it's just-"
"Not for everyone, yadda yadda yadda. Anyway," Andre stood up, holding the d4 in his hand. "Lets continue. Tabaxi time." He took his seat and leaned forward to adjust the white pawns before rolling the hit dice. "Bruh. Another Nat 1. And here I was imagining the Goliath and Tabaxi to be the leaders of the group. Whatever. The Tabaxi attempts another swipe at you, or so it appears because she ends up cat-scratching the arm of the Goliath next to her. That's five damage, and it moves to the Goliath who is slightly pissed at everyone except for the Elf, who's, y'know, actually put in some work. The Goliath makes a wide swing, hoping to cut you all down in one fell swoop." He rolls the d20 three more times, once with a 'whoop' of success, another with a 'aww' of failure, and a final with a 'oh come the fuck on.' I could only assume it was a horrible failure. Andre's sigh fills the room. "Alright, Kimmich, you take 18 damage, he crit succeeded. Sevkan, you take no damage, and instead duck low as the swipe passes over you. Vemnka, you feel the blade move over you, but it does not connect due to your short stature. No, instead, he once again hits the fucking Tabaxi with his swing because he crit failed. Again. And because the human is no longer available to fight, it's now your turn Kimmich."
"I would like to smite again."
"Oh fuck, right you get two 1st level spell slots." Andre almost sounded annoyed when it was brought up, but relented nonetheless. "Take the hit dice."
Dad rolled, and it landed on 14. He rolled the d4 for the blessing Vemnka gave us. It landed on a 3. "Plus the five-"
"Yeah, yeah, it hits. Roll me damage."
"I'm sensing some hostilities from you," Dad said smugly.
"I'm starting to understand why my DMs hated being DMs, that's all. Please, fuck up that Goliath." And so he did, rolling a 15 in total. "You swing one of your longswords upward and cleave the Goliath's jaw in two, but he does not die. A mere flesh wound such as that would do little to dampen the giant-kin's will. No, what killed him was the bright light that engulfed his head after the strike landed. His face was the first to go as he tried to breathe through the holy flames surrounding him. His screams ended abruptly as his larynx melted away, leaving only writhing agony. He died a pitiable death in all fairness, as any sinner does. The second knockout of the game goes to Kimmich. Yay."
Again, the feeling of discomfort appeared as Andre described in unnecessary detail the visual of... someone burning alive. Oh stars, he planned that out, didn't he?
"Let's move on. Sev, your turn. First, lemme see you all roll perception again."
I rolled a 10 while both Dad and Vemnka rolled 16s. Adding modifiers made their 16s into 19s. "Alright. Again, Vemnka and Kimmich only, you see the figure who'd been moving toward the door at the beginning of the fight, now make a break for it as the Goliath collapses into a burnt-out husk. His hood is removed by the movement revealing it to be a green-scaled Dragonborn." Andre moves the Dragonborn's piece next to the door and through it, stopping it just within our sightlines. "He has a chance to escape, will you let him?" He looked at us expectantly.
I turned to Dad to see him eyeing the piece like a fresh firefruit. "Dad, no. If he leaves then that leaves the Elf and the Tub- Taba- Tabasi, whatever it's called. We can end this soon." Vemnka put her tail on his shoulder in an attempt to get his attention. He flinches at the touch and lowers his raised fur.
"Yes, yeah. Let him go," he says hoarsely.
"Alright, letting the Dragonborn go. Now it's Sev's turn. Go ahead and do something about his pesky elf." Andre moves the Elf's pawn a bit to put it back on the right square.
I shrug, attempting to fight off the conflicting feelings. On one paw, it's a game and no one is going to get hurt by me doing these things. But on the other, if I do this willingly does that make me any better than someone who would kill in real life?
Andre's voice snapped me out of my stupor. "Don't overthink it. It's a game, and this situation is self-defence. Kimmich is the only person here who's killed someone so far. The human will probably live in prison and the Dragonborn might find new meaning in life. It's not like any of this properly reflects the real world anyway. Just focus on the game, nothing more, nothing less."
I shook my body to rid myself of those thoughts and rolled my d20 and d4 from the blessing. "18 to hit."
"And hit it does. Halberd is a go!"
With another roll, it lands on a zero. "Got a 0?"
"Oh, yeah, the model I imposed the numbers on only uses one character for each side, but that's a 10. Good roll. Elf takes 10 damage and doesn't like you right now. I'm super tired of talking, so I'll just roll the hit dice. She attacks you for 19. Your AC is 19. Meets it beats it, that's a hit. Rolling damage, she lands a solid blow of 9 damage for her twin daggers. Now both you and Kimmich should have 3 health. Vem, your turn."
"Hit the tab?"
"Hit the tab."
"Hitting tab." Vemnka rolled her d20 and it landed on a 19. "19 plus whatever, I already know it hits."
"That it does," Andre responded. With a flick of his wrist, he knocks over the Tabaxi's pawn and places a cross where it was, he does the same with the Goliath's king. "Wait, why did you do that? I hadn't rolled damage."
"The Tabaxi had one health, there's no feasible way you do zero damage when rolling a dice with no zero on it. Anyway, let's wrap this up, it feels like we've been at this forever. Kimmich, your turn."
Dad sighed a deep whistling sigh. "I'll just roll to attack the Elf." He rolled his two dice, one landed on a 12 and the other landed on a 7, plus the 5 to his hits. "17 and 12. Rolling damage for that 17."
"Roll for both, the Elf's AC isn't that high."
"Really," I asked, bewildered.
"Really. The Goliath had the most AC at 16, but meets it beats it and Kimmich met it in the first round." The clack of dice interrupted him as Dad rolled his two damage die. Andre leaned forward to announce the numbers. "A total of 13. Congratulations, the three of you have just won a skewed encounter of DnD."
"Skewed encounter?"
"The Goliath had 40 health while everyone other than the Tabaxi had 20. The Tabaxi had 17. The Goliath had an AC of 16 while the rest had between 12 and 14. At least one of you should have died. I was betting on Kimmich because I had the Goliath go after him, but the nat 1s kinda stopped that from happening." Andre shook his prosthetic hands and brought them up to his chin. "Anyway, I'm dead tired. Never want to do that again, ever."
"I can't say I'm in the same cruiser as you, I found it quite fun, even with the gruesome descriptions," I said, probably unconvincingly. I did have fun, but it was a lot to take in all at once.
"I had fun too. Just, if we do do this again, try to tone back the predatory stuff. The fighting was fine, but the description was a bit... spot on I think." Vemnka's tail curled a bit as she probably imagined the images Andre described in her head.
Dad only gave a small 'hmph' as he scooted off his chair and went toward our rooms.
"Well," Andre started, "that's about what I expected from a bunch of scared space sheep."
I let out a whistle as Vemnka gently lowered herself to the ground, marched up to Andre, and bopped him on the thigh with all her might.
===================END=TRANSCRIPTION===================

so basically i have an auto immune disease that slowly kills my enamel and im only 20 and i have had 5 root canals and im breaking teeth just by eating bread on the daily. i can’t afford proper dental care even with my mom, dad, me and sisters working jobs to help fund it. i have a tooth that’s needed to be removed to months and i am in so much pain i can’t sleep or eat and i literally cannot afford to fix it. i can’t stop my teeth from rotting out of my mouth and i literally want to die. i brush daily and i still break a tooth every 3 months. i have been in so much pain these past couple days, and i can’t afford the amoxicillin i need to take away the infection. i’ve even tried corner store pharmacies but got turned away. i hate not having the money to just. not be sick anymore. i only turned 20 a month ago and i only have 23 teeth left man. i don’t wanna live like this. i don’t wanna live at all.

If you've seen my last post, you know I was contemplating khula as my husband was potentially cgeating. But for some reason, my family wants me to take some time, which means a few months before finalising any decision. I on the other hand want to proceed with the khula asap and have told my mom that I want this done before Muharram. Otherwise I'll keep gaslighting myself to stay in this marriage. I've also mentally checked out from this marriage and am already thinking of what I want to do in the future. I am going to pursue masters in psychology and am also looking forward to remarrying since now I know better and this marriage was arranged by my family. Am I being weird for already thinking about marriage and potential matchmaking apps I can checkout. I am already over this marriage. I just need it to be officially over so that I can get over it and heal and move on

Hey all, as the title says, my channel (link in my bio if you want to check it out) just recently became fully monitized after ~2.5 years (I got the first level about 4 months ago). I have about 3k subs and only the other day I got my first video sponsor. These are all very humble numbers in the grand scheme of YouTube, but I just wanted to share my experience of doing this for a while and gaining some very mild success at it.
I guess I can start with some background, I am an engineer and maker of things from Ireland. I've spent years building stuff, programming stuff (I'm a professional software engineer day to day) and generally just creating things with my hands. A long time ago, someone said to me that I should document my work because it was intersting and somewhat unique. I started with a blog on my website and then eventually started filming some of the stuff I was making and decided why not post it on YouTube. To my surprise, people started watching and seemed to enjoy it, so I kep filming stuff and learned some editing and just kept making more. I honestly don't think of myself as a YouTuber and don't have any specific ambition to be one, but what I do adore is making things and sharing my work with people, so I plan to continue.
I hear a lot of people talk about finding their niche or focusing on one thing etc., now while I know what I do is already fairly niche, the marker community on YouTube is pretty big and I'm only a tiny drop in the bucket along with everything else. For me, I've never thought much about focusing on a niche, my work is documenting my various projects which jump around all over the place anyway. They kind of just follow whatever I'm interested in at any point in time. However, I do now think of proejcts and in the back of my head say, "well, tht could make a good video too", so I guess it's not super pure in that regard, but in any case, my point really is that I think, "finding a niche" is less important than just doing something that you really love doing.
One thing that I really didn't expect when I started this is that I would really get into the process of filming and editing etc. I am not a good editor, honestly I'm kind of lazy with it and I don't have a tonne of time to put into it between the proejcts I work on, my day job and my other hobbies. However, it's something I find fun and I like learning little bits and pieces and trying to make my videos better. Most of my spare time when I'm chilling at home is watching other makers on YouTube, I adore watching people make stuff and learning from them, but I also love seeing the style and editing from the bigger more polished channels. As I said earlier, I don't have a specific ambition to be one of those bigger channels, but I love watching and getting ideas for editing and video formats and composition.
I'm not sure if any of this is really useful to anyone, but maybe my experience resonates with someone or they find it intersting. Also, I just wanted to share a milestone that I think is pretty cool. When I first started uploading videos never would I have imagined that YouTube might ever give me money (however tiny an amount) for doing it!
Anyway, I'm going to keep making stuff, documenting it, learning better editing, video composition and storytelling, and I'm going to keep enjoying it!

If you've seen my last post, you know I was contemplating khula as my husband was potentially cgeating. But for some reason, my family wants me to take some time, which means a few months before finalising any decision. I on the other hand want to proceed with the khula asap and have told my mom that I want this done before Muharram. Otherwise I'll keep gaslighting myself to stay in this marriage. I've also mentally checked out from this marriage and am already thinking of what I want to do in the future. I am going to pursue masters in psychology and am also looking forward to remarrying since now I know better and this marriage was arranged by my family. Am I being weird for already thinking about marriage and potential matchmaking apps I can checkout. I am already over this marriage. I just need it to be officially over so that I can get over it and heal and move on

A homeless teenager reaches out to the Shil’vati on first day of the invasion of Earth.
Credit to: who has beta read just about every chapter, and the only reason it's readable half the time
u/bluefishcake for writing the original SSB story.
Pizzaulostin who has been beta reading since the beginning.
Credit to u/HollowShel for getting me started with this!
This story is based in the SSB universe.
Previous
First
Chapter 33:

Reqellia:

It was the darkest part of the night, and yet I could hear the energetic commotion of Ruhal blearily heating up food for a famished human along with the clinks of dishes and silverware.
“One more day.” I felt glued to the bench as I stared back into the silver mask I hadn’t worn for almost [twenty-five years] prior, and had hoped never to put on again. I cursed my old girlish wishes when I first joined up, wanting to be a war hero, and then a mother afterwards. To grow old and see my own child in uniform. I had even wanted a son since I was already demanding the impossible.
I never believed in the gods, but now I’m sure that I’ve tempted Niosa to grant my wishes, but only after I made my peace with them that they would never come true.
Klein bounced around the suite’s kitchen, eating enough for two Shil women and already wearing his armor’s underlayment. The chair creaked a bit as he sat, his own horror-show mask on the dining table next to him staring back at him unblinking.
And It was a horror show.
He’d wake up cheerful and happy, and I’d watch over the day as every bit of his energy was drained out of him. The daily exercise routine of a morning run and gym day in a month being performed in a few short hours. Every time Klein finished a trail faster, or performed a more grueling task, the trainers would make him do even more as his contract offers rose another level.
I didn’t blame the instructors, it was their job to challenge each applicant, but Klein blew through all their expectations, so they just kept piling more onto him. Many of those same instructors had asked me if they were pushing him too far, but all I could do was shrug. Even I didn't even know where his potential ended.
I blinked and looked up. He was in his full armor now, with only the mask off.
“Ready to go?”
I nodded and stood up, quickly heading over to Ruhal, who in turn looked at me with sleep deprived eyes. Worn out as I was, he was worse, playing subject matter expert on all things human around a bunch of high ranking officers desperate for information not tainted by censorship.
“Stay safe out there,” he politely ordered as he kissed me.
I kissed him back and held his hand. “You too.”
Sighing,I left to let him rest, popped my back, and donned my own mask.
As Klein paced the door, I begged for safety. “One more day, please let everything be okay after today.”
I shouldn’t have tempted Niosa again.

Itaro:

I quietly padded out of the children’s den to a chorus of snoring from my siblings. The well carpeted securely fastened to wooden floors muffled my footsteps. I opened the large storm shutters and then pulled open the sliding glass door to the patio. I couldn’t sleep anymore, excitedly bouncing from one foot to another.
Klein and Reqellia were coming home tonight! Reqellia had sent me her contract offers that came from a dozen different Imperial departments and bureaus. Dad already agreed years ago she could move in with us, a pack sister was always welcome. Now she wouldn’t feel like a burden if she had to.
And Klein… Well, I wouldn’t be bothered by a few love-marks.
“I see that smile. Excited?” I heard my father’s deep voice like distant thunder. I turned around to his massive form only a few steps away. We both had learned to walk silently when my siblings were just pups and the discovery that they were light sleepers had been made.
I felt my ears droop just a little to see his melancholic face. He had gone out of his way the last few weeks to spend more time with just me now that I had a pack of my own. There was always a soft smile on his face, but the way his tail hung low to the floor was a dead giveaway on his mood.
I tried to cheer him up. “I am. It’s been weeks since I got to speak to Au’tes, and Klein…” I trailed off, the insinuation clear. He smirked. He had met Klein in passing, but I wasn’t bringing him home yet. Hario on the other hand had made one or two bawdy jokes at the dinner table after a second glass of her favorite liquor.
First time Klein spends the night, you might want to check up on Itaro, make sure she didn’t keel over from exhaustion.
“At this rate I’m going to have to teach you sword fighting to beat back other male suitors from poaching you for their own packs!” My father joked. Stepping off the patio landing, he hit the ground noiselessly, bending his legs to absorb the shock.

After letting out a quiet grunt indicative of an age he tried to keep hidden, he turned around and looked back up at me. “Want to come with me for a walk?”
I jumped down and followed him into our little patch of forest my mother’s terraforming job paid for. The early morning was already warm without a cooling vest, but not intolerable. The chirping of birds and the soft whistle of wind tinged with just a hint of salt made everything feel fresh.
It was like when I came home from school and my father would stop construction for the day. We’d explore the forest, play on the beach, go into town for groceries.
Except now my father didn’t run and have me chase him. He carefully inspected the trees for pests, and our conversation was far more practical than whimsical. “Your mother’s coming home next month. Can you write her a message before she meets Klein, just so she has a better idea of your pack?”
I nodded. “Of course. How long is she going to be home this time?”.
Her terraforming jobs always lasted months, if not years. I never faulted her for the huntress life, but it made connecting with her difficult. She was more a guest of honor than a mother to the household, always bringing a fatted Sou’ta carcass home as a present, but rarely cleaned dishes, or the house.
Or really any chore…
He shrugged before crouching next to a felled tree, trimming away small branches for kindling with a tiny hatchet he hand pulled from his tool pouch. “Might be a good long while this time. The last message I got said her department only had small projects and a few hazard jobs on the periphery. Besides, we might need an extra set of hands more than the money now.”
I scoffed. “Her, a house mother!? No offense, but mom is a terrible cook, and a worse caretaker. Remember the time she nearly burned down our kitchen boiling water?”
He laughed with me as he pocketed the hatchet. Standing up with two sticks, and then threw me one. I caught it as he swung his own stick in my general area. “Defend yourself! I did say I needed to teach you sword fighting. How else are you going to fight off possessive men when they realize what a catch you are?”
He didn’t teach anything but how to rough house on a lazy Shel morning.
We played and swung the flimsy branches until I accidentally hit him square in the chest. The branch, already crumbly and dry, disintegrated on impact. It didn’t stop him from dramatically acting out a death scene. Falling to his knees in an overly theatrical fashion. “Oh, woe is me! Cut down by my own daughter in cold blood!”
I let him pretend to be on stage for a few moments longer before standing over him to offer a hand. He took it, and then yanked me down to the grassy patch, holding me for a long, quiet minute. “I’m going to miss you.”
For the first time I noticed the stray white hairs around his muzzle, I knew what he meant, but I tried to play it off. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He just held me for a silent heartbeat longer, then let go and stood up.
He proclaimed cheerfully to mask his wet eyes. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up. You can’t look like a pup out of a mud bath for your victorious pack! I even scheduled a visit at Tulo’s for a haircut. Ruhal’s treat.”
My mind played with potential futures as we headed home. Between the three of us, we could write our own life together. Maybe I could even stay close to home.
I looked up to the rising light.
“One more day!”

Klein :

The mountains of gear and equipment around us were illuminated by harsh flood lights. We stood in formation with each person, regardless of species, showing physical signs of exhaustion. Drooping shoulders and bent knees, unfocused and slow eye movement.
Instructor Li’kele was wearing full battle rattle today, complete with a compact lasrifle holstered to her leg.
“Good morning applicants! It’s the last day of selection! Your assignment will be to support your sisters in the combat section in the wargames! You see all this critical equipment? Our first assignment will be to load all of it on auto-turoxes and hover-wagons. Unfortunately we don’t have enough capacity , some of you will need to carry gear on your person as we make the [ten mile] trek into the forest. Applicants 849, 734, 236 and 953 step up after we finish loading! You are our extra carriers.”
I knew I was going to be picked. It was easy to not let it bother me though. Reqellia had explained that the instructors were just trying to push us to our limits, and every extra duty and handicap meant a better contract with a brighter future.
Still, after hefting thousands of [pounds/kilos] of stuff onto the squat legged drone’s cargo cages and the little platforms that would float once powered, dread formed in the pit of my stomach as an entire counter-battery system was cinched onto my person. I trudged as we formed up for our road march.
The combat selection team rolled in as we took positions, already covered in mud from what I could guess was their own morning fun, their las-rifles at the low ready. Their own instructor, a severe looking Hyena-like Kortika woman with fur that trimmed short and smooth. She yelled out orders to the gaggle of applicants under her command. “Form on either side of the supply train and defend them at all costs! If they get shot because you weren’t doing your job, then it’s your ass that will be carrying the extra gear!”
We marched out of the base, clinking and clunking as we traveled uphill. The weight wasn’t too bad now that it was evenly distributed on my body, but it would be hell taking it off and putting it back on anytime we stopped.
“Isn’t that the new shock trooper ? What’s he doing with the non-combat selection?” I heard one of the combat applicants say idly. It was easy to pick up conversation in the nearly silent dawn as we marched on a dirt path extending across an expanse of grassland in the reddening sky. It was really pretty, watching the light play on the green forested hills in the distance.
Their Instructor sidled up to the commenting girl silently, ears swiveled back in anger. She grabbed her shoulder, growling low. “Cut the chatter, girl. ”
Silence followed for the next hour in the pre-dawn light.
We got the first taste of the wargames when red beams bolted over our heads and dropped one of our auto-turoxes. “Everyone get down!” yelled one of our instructors, and I threw myself on the path.
With all the weight on me, the impact on the ground hurt . I looked up and saw red beams blink in and out over me. Their flashes brought back memories.
The red glow through convenience store windows . An alien invasion.
I blinked furiously and turned my head to see what was going on with the combat teams on the sides of the road. They had already taken out two of the ‘raiders’ who stood up, hands in the air as they walked away. Another minute clicked by before a squad decided to double check the tall grass and found a third raider hiding. All had the insignia of the instruction cadre commandos.
“Everyone, up !” Instructor Lik’ele belted out in a two-word shout, and I had to push up off the ground, creaking under the weight. My arms burned as I got to my knees, then raised a hand and called out, “assistance!” One of the unnumbered girls gave me a hand to steady myself, and I rocked a bit trying to stand.
“Thank you,” I said, but between the voice distorter and my mask, the girl backed away as soon as I was up, fear registered in her eyes.
[At the bus stop, a classmate backed away from me. scared of me for some reason mumbling ‘you're bleeding’. Warmth on my upper lip, a coppery taste.]

I shook my head, trying to banish the weird memory surfacing, I hadn’t had a nosebleed since I left Earth. I looked back up, but the girl had already gotten back in formation and we started moving again.
It wasn’t quite noon when we stopped for lunch. I got help removing my kit, and stretched to work out the kinks. Reqellia stood next to me as I sat down on the hard packed surface. I took off my gloves, and jammed them under my chest holster.
I was technically ‘armed’ right now. We had gotten the thirty-minute las-pistol training yesterday on how to safely handle them, and then ran through a quick range. They were nothing more than glorified laser pointers though. They could lock up a suit set to respond to the laser signal, but they wouldn’t so much as redden skin otherwise.
Reqellia had let me in on their real purpose, to see if we could be trusted with a dangerous object and not play with it.
Eating was a pain, I had to lift my mask halfway up and eat blind. The meal pack was cold, but eh, it was food. Goddess, I was hungry.
“How are you holding up?” Reqellia asked, the silver mask obscuring any expression, and the voice distorter deadening any intonation, but by the angle of the head tilt, I could guess the question was more concern than curiosity.
“It’s not too heavy, but it’s awkward trying to move around,” I admitted as I put my mask back in place and pulled out my omni-pad. I tried not to boggle at the contract offers I was getting. It was a straight up bidding war, including furnished houses, years of leave after an initial stint, even minor titles.
Ruhal had helped me, even filled out the forms himself with less than a day for submission. He had also messaged me about the fine print of many of these absurd offers. The watch word was ‘Relocation’.
“They will send you back to Earth. Right now, you are the only human any department can recruit who might know an obscure piece of human signage or culture that got skipped during their culture crash courses, has the physical ability to keep up during an operation, and they can implicitly trust it is loyal to the Imperium.”
I scrolled past the too-good-to-be true proposals and to the ones without relocation, not ridiculously overpaying, but still plenty. Maybe I would follow Ka’tel into ICAD, or…
“We need to get moving!” Li’kele barked and I signaled for help again. This time Au’tes was ordered to help me with my gear. Now seeing her up close, she was definitely worse for wear. She smiled, but it was the kind of tired smile that had almost no energy in it. Her usual well controlled movements were slurred by exhaustion, and she leaned on me after buckling the packs on my shoulders, her own extra gear was a large backpack of energy cells.
“Damn, girl runs away in fear from combat selection after spending years in the militia and now plays valet. Bet whatever is underneath that suit is more would eat her alive if unmuzzled,” I overheard one of the combat applicants snicker. Au’tes winced, just a bit, at the barb from her former youth militia group.
“Lift your visor.” I said. It was dumb, it was really dumb, but I wanted to give her at least a reminder of what she had that they didn’t. Au’tes had a flicker of confusion, but flipped up the visor on her suit’s helmet.
I lifted my mask just enough to kiss her. It was honestly a gross kiss and wished I could have brushed my teeth beforehand. But when I dropped my mask down there was the manic Au’tes again, full of energy and gusto. I looked past her to the shocked combat applicants. I put my finger to roughly where my mouth was and whispered in my distorted voice, “No one will believe you.”
Au’tes brought her visor down and squeezed my hand for a second longer before leaning in close “Thank you for letting me know you still exist under there.

Reqellia:

The dirt trail up the hill was easy enough for my legs. I stayed in the same general area as Klein, but with my augments I already had his pinpoint location and medical data, I could even access his helmet camera. I didn’t want to get in his way while the instructors gave him snap secondary tasks to complete on our journey up to the outpost location.
I kept myself entertained by listening in on the comms chatter that I could pick up on the wargames going on about us at large. I had enjoyed playing the no-holds-barred opposing force when I was a commando on rotation here.
Right now there was a particularly fun little drama going on up north of our location. A mechanized assault unit tasked with taking out an anti-orbital battery got one of their exos stuck in mud because of a poor assessment of the ground composition. The armored crane they had first ordered to pull it out was now also stuck.
The Lieutenant was trying to get an exception to the wargame rules to bring a drop ship in to pull them both out, but the higher-ups told her to figure it out. The whole point of these wargames was to discover how things could go wrong. The Lieutenant tried to pull title to overrule them, only to get a nasty conversation from her commander.
A small beep from my monitoring systems told me Klein’s heart rate had slowed and I looked up to see the front of the supply train had been ordered to halt. Up ahead was the “fort,” a clearing on top of the hill with nothing but some half buried holes.
The Kortika woman got to the front of the formation and gave her orders. “Listen up! Combat selection is going to set up a perimeter while the Auxiliary builds us a structure safe enough to hold during an assault. All weapons are going ‘live’, but for those in the non-combat teams I will again warn you to only use them in self-defense. If you wanted to shoot people for a living you should have signed up for it.”
I tried not to flinch as I watched Klein and his compatriots start to offload all the gear they had packed this morning and attempt their best effort at setting it up with basic instructions from Li’kele and the manuals that came with the equipment. Just another test to see how the applicants would handle the technical situation.
At this point they were at their limit, physically and mentally exhausted as they tried to bolt frames together, wrestle antennas, install expandable barriers, and put together the foundations of a forward operating base.
Klein had all but given up on the counter battery system he schlepped here and handed that responsibility off to a Senthe Boy while speaking a rough northern dialect of Satenthia. The boy was more than happy to talk to someone who knew even a few words of his native tongue.
I opened a small window on my HUD and watched with amusement as the early contract offers rose and fell. Klein’s offer from naval engineering, already paltry compared to other, more suitable jobs, dropped to barely above standard. Intelligence and Law branches, however, rocketed upwards again.
I could almost hear the recruiter’s comments as the numbers and terms changed. Does not have familiarity with Shil military equipment. Comfortable with speaking multiple languages. Works well with multiple species.
I watched them work. Klein, in usual Klein fashion, pushed himself. After getting the counter battery laser hooked up, he volunteered for other physically demanding tasks. Pile driving in the foundations that hold the columns of the structure. The rhythmic thump gave me ghost aches when I had done the same thing out in the periphery while getting pot shotted by roaches.
I shook my head. It was going to be another rough night for him by the way he was bunching up his shoulders as he braced the handheld pile driver. Thankfully, tomorrow he’d be home and with an appointment with Cee who might force him on bed rest for the next month.
I started to chuckle at the thought of how protective Itaro was going to get after taking one look at Klein. I came back from deployment once missing three fingers from a plasma grenade and Bahtet waited on me and foot, wouldn’t so much as let me handle a kitchen knife until they were replaced later that month.
A few stray red beams were thrown our way, even a flash bang or two from the commandos tasked with harassing us came and went. As the ramparts of the temporary base were finished, I took up station on the second level to oversee the whole complex. Klien was working with a combat team, helping them put a second defense line in. They had driven stakes into the ground to support parallel knee-high thermocast plates with an arms-length gap between them, which Klein was filling in with dirt to act as a wall and platform for the heavy, crew served lasgun.
I was thankful there would be a shuttle to pick us up soon. I played the opposing force for Selection a few times, and I still remembered the script. Right now we were in a lull that would last until dusk, then at least three full commando teams would assault the base. The battle would be made as realistic and demanding as possible with creeping dark to add to the complexity.
The Selection team would always be wiped out, but it was how they performed against overwhelming odds that would shift the contract offers that last bit before everything was locked in place.
I heard the whirr of a counter battery system swiveling around, and then the crackle of it firing. I turned to see what it was aiming for but all I saw was a cloud of smoke . Then a fast moving object came through the cloud before I heard the crackle again and another exploded .
Blanketing everything in a tar-black fog .
My stomach dropped. This wasn’t the cadre commando team, and they were attacking too soon. I got on the comms with Li’kele “HALT, HALT, HALT! We need to stop the exercise!”
I got a crackle on the comms. Then Li’kele’s voice came in that terrifyingly calm voice used to keep control of a combat operation. “I can’t get a signal out, I need a report on the situation.”
Instead of trying to explain I sent her my video feed as I jumped down from the ramparts and started to sprint for Klein. I needed to get him out of here , but I hadn’t had time to prime my augments. I started the cold power cycle as I cursed myself for letting my guard down.
I was already too late . I watched as our own counter-battery laser weapons were used against us, acting as the triggers for each smoke grenade engulfing Klein’s team right in front of me, their signal dropping right out. I got a response from Li’kele that alleviated at least some of my terror. “Dammit! It’s the 171 st Raiders from the wargames, they mus-”
And then I was enveloped in darkness and static. The smoke was so thick I could only see a few paces away in all spectrums. I tried my internal radio and….
Nothing. I was alone and with nothing to guide me, and then I saw to the right of me a few weak beams of red, and then a ball of light of a simulated explosion. I let my gnawing panic subside and walked their way with a observers flag in my hand. I was practically on top of them before I saw the combat selection team that had been ‘killed’, their frowning faces and hands up as they sat there grumbling.
The Raiders appeared soon after. A four woman squad. Two Helkam, a Rakiri, and a Shil’vati hefting a large antiquated grenade launcher. I called out “Do you have a way to call a emergency stop to the battle?”
The squad leader responded. “Did someone get seriously injured? I can fire off a flare and our medic teams will be here to extract them.”
“No! This is Selection, we aren’t supposed to be part of the Wargames.” I argued, but she waved me off.
“We got orders to assault the base up here. Trust me, our commander is mighty pissed at getting tasked with a frontal assault on the youngest and toughest the Imperium has to offer, with adding insult to injury if we lose to kids. That’s why we broke out the smoke screen.”
“One of the Selection members is the first of their species. Higher ups want them monitored at all times,” I partly lied.
The gears whirred and the team lead brought her weapon up again, eyes a little wider. “ Blue Eyes is here? Shit, girls ready up and head on a swivel!”
The team reformed in a circle facing outwards, a tactic specifically meant for ambushes and roach suicide drones. I stood there, confused. “Blue eyes?”
The team lead started to move into the smoke again, but explained, her eyes darting around. “Yeah, the freaky creature in the mask, toyed with an unmanned Exo before annihilating it with a shipcutter! A close quarters combat specialist with heavy armor and a real mean streak . You’re telling me they’re loose in a forest with enough concealment to sneak up on us and tear us to shreds? Ma’am the only ones in immediate danger are us. ”

Hello everyone, I'm posting here because it's a standalone community for ABAP dev's and would like some advice. I'm a Computer Science student and have 2 years left to graduate. I would like to work in SAP as a developer and where I'm based (Germany) there are a lot of openings to ABAP roles looking for computer science grads.
The thing is, I find it really hard to self-learn ABAP. And I know that this language often is best learnt with a mentor or with hands on experience, which I currently don't have.
My question is.. Can I learn ABAP on the job? Should I stop stressing myself out that I need to self-learn ABAP now for my first SAP role in 2 years (If i get a job)? I am a decent programmer in modern languages thanks to my computer science courses. Will I be able to easily get into ABAP and/or SAP tech roles in general?
Thank you :)

When I was 4 years old, my parents (21 at the time) broke up and my father left without even a goodbye to me. My mother was in a very dark place for a year, she worked in a shitty retail shop, making us living paycheck to paycheck. I was about 6 years old when my mom met Mic (fake name/around 23 at the time). Mic was a nice guy, at least he never judged the appearance of our "home". He'd come by almost every evening with spaghetti meatballs for the three of us. It's one of the nicest memories of my life. Even though Mic was an ordinary office worker, my mother loved him with all her heart. They got married just after 8 months of dating, there was no wedding ceremony but I just know they loved eachother enough so nothing really mattered. After our financial situation got better since Mic's parents offered to help, they had a child. Stacy. Stace is a precious girl, she's the only thing I truly love from the bottom of my heart... I turned 20 last year december and my mother was fighting her stage 2 terminal cancer. She was doing well in chemotherapy until something quite personal happened that negatively impacted her high spirit making her conditions worsen and worsen. 23 days ago. She became a beautiful angel, leaving us behind. My step-dad was devastated but then he turned to me. I'm a blonde girl with light brown eyes just like my mother. I think he saw her in me so he politely asked if I would like to have a dinner with him to talk about what we've been feeling lately... One thing led to another. I was woken up by the scream from my 12 years old sister. Mic was in the living room covering his face with his hands. Everyone found out. Now all my relatives are calling and driving to our home, going down on both of us. I don't know what to do anymore. Please help me out of this situation.

My dream starts out with my mother moving in with me into a new house. (She past away last year irl)
I help decorate her room before I set up mine, she very quickly is losing weight, is unable to walk, and passes in her bed. I walk into her room after the coroner collects her body and there is a beautiful baby highland cow who is very hungry.
I carry the heavy cow into the kitchen where there is a small child dressed in 1920s garb crying. I ask the boy "why are you crying?" He said back "mom told me never to waste food" as he is rubbing his eyes.
I take a large pot and go through the trash grabbing out handfuls of rice covered in hot sauce, I then feed it to the cow.
I leave both the child and the cow in the kitchen and walk into my moms room to clean it out, she had stollen paper towels and some of my clothing and hid it in her closet. My fionce walks in and starts yelling about how she was such a horrible person and how we needed these paper towels. I explained how it doesn't matter now and that it was unimportant.
I left him in the room frustrated. I walked to the kitchen and picked up the heavy cow who ate all of the hot sauce covered rice. The child is hunched over bawling on the floor of the kitchen still. I ignored him and walked to my room holding and hugging the cow. My room was in shambles but looking out of the window there was a large bright city covered in trees. I was thinking of all I had to do, plan a funeral, clean up her items, unpack my boxes, take care of this cow, and calm down my fionce. I thought about the child and decided he can just keep crying and he should be quiet soon.
I feel this dream means something? Does anybody have any thoughts on it?

Hey, first time poster.
I (29f) am really struggling to feel confident in myself vocationally. I spent years chasing different careers that suited my passions but I’m finding that is fickle and doesn’t pan out because my passions change. I didn’t go to college, and spent my early-mid 20s entrenched in motherhood. Now, I am a single mom. I’ve entered healthcare as a CNA and I want to start college in the fall in hopes of pursuing nursing, however, as a single mom who works full time, I don’t see myself being able to go to school full time.
My current job especially has hurt my confidence. It’s not a super positive work environment and has made me feel that I’m not good at my job. I’m working on finding a new job which I can see helping, but also just feeling at a loss of what I should pursue. I’m trying not to feel trapped as an uneducated adult.
Anyways- any advice for a career “late bloomer” finding confidence to learn something new?

Me and my siblings were raised by our mother because my father died when I was first year high school. My dad was unemployed and ilang months dn syang naospital bago namatay so nabaon si mommy sa utang kasi although ngbgay ng pera ung kapatid ni dad, utang un. Binayadan yun ni mommy ng ilang taon up to the last cent after mamatay ni dad. My mom, on the other hand, is a government employee. Still working until now. She also had side hustles kasi maliit lng sahod nya and anim kaming anak nya. So mdami dn syang loans para mpag-aral kmi.
Growing up, we were deprived of the things we wanted. The answer was always, "wala tayong pera." But pag meron nman, bnbigay nman ni mama basta kaya ng budget.
Fast forward. Ngaun, may trabaho na kming mgkakapatid. Sakto lng samin kasi single nman kmi lahat. Tapos yung isa kong kapatid, nsa abroad and malaki ang sahod. Kaya ngaun, we can buy our wants and needs. Nakakakain na kmi sa labas pag may occasion. Or pag gusto nmin at may budget nman. Mnsan pnopost ko sa fb. Pero mdalas hnd. Kasi baka nga isipin na ngyayabang ako. Ganon. Si mommy mahilig mgreels so cnasabihan ko na wag ipopost lahat. Kaso mnsan di nkikinig mnsan. Hehe Proud lng daw sya kasi nggawa na nmin ung mga di nmin nggawa dati.
So dahil dun, akala ng mga kapatid ni daddy, mrami na kming pera. Mayaman na daw kmi. Kaya nung meron sana kming mtatanggap na pera bilang pamilya ni daddy ko, di sinabi samin ng mga kapatid nya kasi nga daw "marami na kaming pera." 😅
Ang hnd nila alam, may mga bnbayadan dn kaming mga loans kasi may bnili kming property. Para sana sa business pero pgiipunan pa. At saka, dami dn nmin ngastos this year kasi ngkasakit at namatay ang lola ko (mother's side). Halos kami ang gumastos kasi walang kakayahan ung ibang kapatid ng mother ko. Wala nman prob dun kasi mahal na mahal nmin grandparents nmin. Sila nag-alaga samin nung bata kmi.
Kaya ayun, nakakainis lng na mdyo nakaluwag lng kmi eh hnd na ibibigay ung para samin. 🥺 Kung mayaman kami eh di sana di na nmin kelangan mgbudget. Eh di sana di na kmi ngtitiis sa trabaho nmin. Ptravel travel nlng sana kmi. 😂

My ex-husband completed his third bout of treatment for alcoholism a couple months ago, and to my knowledge has been sober since then. I had been sending one of my kids to spend every other weekend with him at her request (the other two don’t usually want to go and he doesn’t argue). But when he picked up my daughter last night he looked really off. Super jaundiced and swelling in his face and hands that looked like it would be pitting. I’m a nurse, and haven’t worked inpatient for a couple years, but he looked like a cirrhosis hospice patient. He seemed sober when he picked her up, but seemed a little confused (he parked in our neighbor’s driveway instead of mine). Our houses look similar, and his mom usually picks her up, so understandable, but with the jaundice it makes me a little worried about the confusion that often accompanies liver failure. My daughter is also autistic and non-verbal, but she does have a speech device she is good with and an iPad that she can and does text me on, but if he got sick when she is there I don’t think she would know how to respond. She loves her dad and loves spending time with him, but it made me incredibly anxious to send her with him last night. I don’t know what the right thing to do is, and also legally I know I can’t technically keep her here, but I also know he wouldn’t fight me (although I’m sure he’d be upset about it on social media so he could look like the poor father whose wife is withholding the kids). I don’t know if there is a good answer to this situation, but don’t know if maybe someone else has dealt with this and knows how to navigate something like this.

brief context, my family is messy and i was left with my grandparents by my biological mother. when i say "mom," i mean my grandmother. my grandfather passed in 2015, and she remarried in 2020. i am a mentally/physically disabled adult and cannot drive, so i rely on her for any access i get to the outside world. apologies in advance if this sounds scattered.
so my mom turns 83 in october. she's always been very adamant about living to 100 (saying she wanted to be on the news), and would talk about it so often that i was just convinced that it would happen until recently.
in october of 2023 she had some major surgery that she was expected to heal well + quickly from, but she was just never the same afterwards. she was already having some issues with jitters in her hands that year, which only seemed to get worse after her surgery. her doctors were doing absolutely every test they could to figure out why my mom just wasn't getting better, and boiled it down to a bad UTI they had caught too late. all of that aside they still thought she would be back on the road no later than december, and i would be able to finally leave my house again.
december came and went and she still never got better. it all came to a head in mid january, when the day after i needed my own dental surgery- i woke up to a text from her husband saying she was in urgent care and that an ambulance had been called while i was asleep, and that i'd need to manage the house by myself for a few weeks. i was extremely worried for her, but i knew my mom was a fighter and would come out on the winning side. (we'd find out her uti had relapsed, but while she was in UC she contracted a severe c. diff infection that also relapsed, which is why she was away so long.)
a few weeks turned into nearly 3 months for me to manage all of this new responsibility very suddenly, while also trying to tender myself after my surgery i was meant to have help from my family with. i already struggle with taking care of myself and my cat, let alone adding an entire house and a small senior dog (16) to the mix.
this dog had a very strict schedule dictated by my family, much of which was left over from my mom's schedule when my dad was still alive and we were caring for him. i needed a lot of rest and couldn't keep up. it was clear she was anxious about having half of the house missing all of a sudden, and having someone new take care of her. she wet on the floor all the time no matter how much i let her out, and was developing some bad behavior. i vented to my mom about this once, and she offered to have her stay at a kennel until everyone came home, which i agreed to- thinking the kennel staff would be able to give her the amount of attention my exhausted body couldn't at that moment. a week before my mom came home, she told me that my childhood dog wouldn't be coming home with her, and was put up for foster and adopted.
i absolutely couldn't believe that she would do that to me, especially not without talking about it with me first. she was completely cold to my grief, and told me "that i would either cry now, or cry later when i inevitably realized i couldn't take care of her," even though that was completely unfair to me. i was put under an extreme and sudden, yet temporary, amount of pressure, and was determined to prove to her i could care for my dog in her final years, as long as i was allowed to shift her schedule to match my own better. i wanted to heal and get better for her so badly. she didn't care and is yet to offer me any consolation for stealing my pet from me under my nose.
it was the final straw for me. even outside of several major incidents we've had i won't get into, ever since she got remarried and i turned 18 a couple years ago, she's grown increasingly verbally/emotionally abusive and emotionally unavailable to me. we've always had problems of course, given she had to raise me alone, but i still thought that she loved me. now, she insults me and constantly says things to me to make me feel like i'm the abuser in the relationship, while also refusing all of my efforts for the last 4 years to try and improve our relationship together. she threatens me with calling the police if i'm having a ptsd episode/autism meltdown. i have never been physically violent, and even when i'm having an episode, i try to mind my words so i don't say something hurtful that i don't mean. if i ever try to tell her that i can't always be the problem, and that she has responsibility for our relationship too, she deflects and says "gosh, i've just been such a bad mother haven't i? why don't you just get rid of me if i'm always striking out with you?"
i'm tired of trying to fix things with her. i don't deserve to be treated like this. but at the same time, i know that my mom is dying. she's homebound and her healing has stagnated. and maybe it's denial, but i can't bring myself to be sad at the prospect of her passing away anymore. i feel horrible for it. she's still my mom, you know? the only grief that i feel is for the version of her that doesn't exist anymore, who was still kind to me and who i felt loved me.
but at the same time i'm angry at her for getting sick. i've not been outside in months, and the amount of stress i've been through has put pressure on my own loved ones- and has cost me an extremely valuable relationship that gave me hope for the future. i'm grieving for that relationship now, too.
it's been 2 months since she came home and i've not spoken to her once. i don't want to. i know it wasn't her fault, but if my mom gets to hate me for things that make no sense, don't i get to hate her for the same reason? it's not like our relationship is salvageable anymore anyways. if you hadn't gotten remarried, your new husband wouldn't have made you so mean. if you had never gotten sick, i would still be going outside. i would still have my dog. i would still be with this person who was my ticket out of this house, and into a real home where i was loved. you've traumatized me in a way i'll be dealing with for the rest of my life. i have nothing now, because of you. my future is cloudy and i don't know what's going to happen to me.
my therapy isn't helping anymore. i feel trapped and i have no idea what to do, or how to feel, or how to prepare myself for when my mom does finally pass. either way, i lose. i either regret not being kinder to her and not trying hard enough while she was dying, or i regret still giving her pieces of myself and sacrificing my own health to feel like i had a mother who loved me. i cared for and watched my dad die slowly over years, at an age where i should've never been a caretaker, but he never hurt me like this. our relationship wasn't so complicated, and still i have regrets. one day my mom asked if i wanted to come visit him at the nursing home, and i was being bratty that day so i said no. he would die that afternoon. he had severe dementia, but nearly 10 years later i wonder if he was looking for his daughter before he slipped away. it haunts me. i cannot handle having regrets like that for both my parents.

Hi fellow teachers, I am looking for some advice as a parent.
I have a career in teaching and child development. I have a ton of experience in the early childhood field and currently teach early childhood education to high school students at a career and technical school. I am a OAD parent by choice and I have always been a bit of a helicopter mom without meaning to. I don’t keep my child from exploring or taking chances, but I do often find myself problem-solving for her and as she gets older I am trying to be more aware of it and step back so she can learn on her own.
My daughter is 8 and a half, and just finished 2nd grade. My question is, when do I step in and “do things for her” for the sake of the teachers sanity and when do I let her fail and deal with consequences? My main example is her Chromebook. She is supposed to charge it every night and she almost NEVER remembers. I am quite absent minded myself so after the first reminder when we get home, it often slips my mind until I get up the next morning and I quick run over and plug it in for her. I do this because I am a teacher myself and I know how frustrating it is to not have students prepared with what they need. But on the other hand, that’s not helping her learn anything, and on the days she does have a (small) consequence at school for not having her computer charged, it helps her learn responsibility.
So teachers.. which would you prefer? The kid who might come to school unprepared so they can learn responsibility, or the kid whose parent helps them out too much but at least you’ll be able to get through the day more easily? As a teacheparent, I honestly fully understand either answer. I have taught preschool where I’d expect parents to help obviously, and now I teach high school where I’d expect students to face the consequences. Other teachers… share your thoughts please!