--⧼ BEGIN Broadcast Message ⧽--
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Priority Level: Urgent
:: From ::
Center Arm of the Emperor, Planet Laran
:: To ::
All Survivors of Fellow Royal Cast Broods
:: Message ::
The Emperor has graciously permitted the use of his Excellency's summer home on Planet Laran, located in the Empire's Center Arm, as a temporary refuge during the unprecedented violent Terran offences against His Holiness and the holiness of the Omni-brood of Ix.
:: Attachments ::
Coordinates and Flight Key
:: Royal Cryptographic Signature ::
Lord La'Ix, The Emperor's Right-Center Arm
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--⧼ END Broadcast Message ⧽--

earlier

"CURSE THEM! The great houses are going to have my bloody head for this! There is no way this should've happened and under my command too! The Golden Emperor's own exotic holiday world has gone to ash and the only one to blame is going to be me. Well it was basically my watch anyways. Curse. Them. All"
Those were the only legible sounds one could hear among the frantic stamping of one particular Ixian lord as he hurried away through the underbrush of the royal reserve just outside the centre palace. The same Ixian lord that, only hours earlier, was delighting in his typical cooked boar while enjoying his evening's entertainment of a young Terran girl running for her life from a loose Laran tiger. Something about the way those bipeds run always makes him laugh. Some similarly caste Ixian would call this form of entertainment childish, lowbrow, and immature. He would tend to agree. But sometimes he just wanted cheap slapstick humour. The day to day life of the royal caste tends to get dull with all the fine arts an Ixian of his caste is meant to enjoy.
"How did it all go to shit!?! I was always attentive, and there hasn't been an uprising since those terrans were tamed for the palace. I mean we mostly neuter the problematic ones anyways, so why all the sudden aggression?", he shouted in agitation at the emptiness in front of him.
Speeding through the royal garden which in actuality is a repurposed Savannah of the island the palace is on. The Ixian was a beast of speed. Perfectly honed and trained over decades, and genetically maintained over eons, he always proudly held that he was the fasted in his brood of 16. Making a name for himself among the other broodkin for being the most genetically suited for the rank of high general (not that there was any need for generals, there hasn't been need for war in so long). Of course the Ixians always pride themselves in having no excess potential, and adapting your environment to suit your biology, but it never hurts to have perfect biology. That's the true pride of an Ixian.
That innate need to change the universe rather than changing themselves is what led to their vast interstellar empire. One that reached from constellation to constellation and then eventually to the arms of entire galaxies, terraforming worlds to the same environment they were already adapted to. Since forcing nature into one's bidding was the most sacred duty of any that shared a lick of Ix biology.
Which was why the Ix was confident in themselves. This Ixian in particular surely felt surprised, but mainly he was only moderately upset at the sudden change of situation, from being comfortable in the royal dining hall to sudden exercise.
"Everything can be changed back. Everything can be changed back." It repeated the mantra to itself. As it began to relax and turn its snarled sharp mouth into a toothy grin.
"Yes, there is nothing to worry about at all. Then let's make a game plan. Just need to make it to the space port at the harbour. Grab a ride out and find someone else to take the fall. That old royal butler is as ancient as the dirt of the broodworld. Hell, he probably was there when it vanished in the shadow of the holy empire's long past." chuckling to himself at the quite witty remark, but saddened that no one else was there to hear it.
Should be realistic enough for the others to believe. But first things first, I need to reach the harbour-master. It thought while its dense muscles powered the beastly lizard-like form on its journey, as it bound in the direction of its destination at top speed on all fours.
The blood red sun was already kissing the horizon by the time the Ixian went to nearly collapse under exhaustion of the extended sprint. He hasn't ran this far and fast than when he a young broodling that won competitions and competitions in the royal sports. I think I might have overdid it. He thought while massaging the oncoming threat of a sneaky cramp in his hind leg.
The Ixian were well known for speed. But their stamina was another thing. There bodies simply didn't have the evolved features for long distance travel. There was never truly any need in the past, as their very steady and controlled climate and sparsely diverse ecosystem on Ix never truly required much challenge.
It turned its panting head to face the way it came, gazing proudly at the great distance it made in such a short while.
But something was off by that view. Something different to what he was expecting. The view itself was mostly fine. Well, as fine as a smoking mark in the distance, presumably from the summer palace being engulfed in flame and spitting great plumes of black smoke. But no, something about this view chilled him to this spine. Craning his neck from his vantage point he could swear there was a small speck in the distance.
What on great Ix is that?
All of a sudden realisation hit like a rock on a peaceful pond. Something was following him. Something unknown and cold was making its way to his location. He was certain it wasn't any of his guards, all guards permitted to serve under the royal summer home were Ixian of course. Physically bred for their strength and speed, and placed into roles of importance like protecting the higher caste such as himself. (Whereas this day being the only exception). It did look like he was the only Ixian that actually made it out of the palace so far. Ixians are able to cover short distances in phenomenal speed, akin to a scaly 4 legged beast of the hunt.
No this was something else.
Feeling a very small panic build up inside, but veiling that cold, unwanted terror as impatience at how far he still needs to travel yet. Lord La'Ix flexed his anterior legs and sped on leaving behind a red-yellow cloud of dust in his wake.
He frowned. Feeling strange at a never before felt sensation. Like something in the back of his perfectly designed brain was screaming a silent, but terrifyingly familiar warning.
"Ix itself is an ancient world. Temperate in climate, while abundant in vegetation and small game. It is unknown how the Ixian was formed on paradise.
The old priest can drum into your heads that I'Ix made us into being by indenting his form in the sand of the first beach and filling the shape with his life. Moulding us into being.
The heretic would counter and say we evolved from a previous species akin to ourselves over the course of untold lengths of time.
The philosopher would suggest that only on paradise would the sentient universe fill in the space for the perfect beings to enjoy the fruits of existence.
Lastly, even the lowest caste Ixian would point and laugh at the rest and say 'why talk about antiquity, when we can make more paradise to fill the heavens'."
-A popular Ixian parable
Lord La'Ix bolted up all of a sudden from his resting spot. Heart suddenly beating frantically. The stars had barely enough time to shift positions when last rested his weary body, only a couple hours must have passed since dusk fell and the world plunged into night.
The silence of the Savannah made sound from afar travel better. Aside from the quiet rustling of the wind he wasn't so sure what he heard. Assuming his bored ears were playing tricks on him.
Calming down, curling up on the flat cool rock he found he started to drift to the shadowless lands where all Ixian go when they dream...
Drums, no, not drums. Some sort of mechanical tool? Not that I ever heard of a tool that just beat the ground senseless. A strange beating sound could be heard, pounding into the ground. As he stayed frozen and very awake, he could have sworn it was getting louder. Closer.
CRACK. SNAP. CRACK.
Suddenly the entire valley echoed the sounds of a few broken sticks.
La'Ix jumped up, whirling around, and came to face something approaching fast that could only be described as a cold predator, not that there were any predators on the homeworld's recorded history. But every cell in his aching body reacted the same. DANGER, DANGER, RUN, RUN.
The silver light of the planet's 3 moons barely lit the valley but what that light bounced off of was a figure in motion. Front Legs pumping up and down, nostrils flaring, eyes too close together, and pupils so large it was like staring at darkness itself.
Hold on there are only 2 legs right? Sudden familiarity hit him hard, memories of last night's entertainment stained his mind. In the name of Ix is that a Terran?!?
La'Ix didn't realise it then, but it was looking at a Terran, despite the Terrans characteristics looking different to the standard slave he was used to seeing. The pumping body of the runner was made for such long distances. Sweat acting as a cooling mechanism, making the man glisten in the harsh moonlight, the enlarged nostrils taking in all the air the body needs for this type of strenuous activity. And the enlarged pupils, made for adjusting to low light environments.
Down on the plains of the Savannah were two creatures. One a perfect evolutionary miracle, practically evolution's first try gone right, Perfectly made for its environment and was never truly exposed to varying climates and environments. And the other, having crawled through the primordial ooze, and struggled and fought its way through dangers, diseases, and competition on its own horrifying world. Where deadly heat in deserts can dry out any living thing, and such freezing poles that can turn anything that enters it in pure ice.
The man's lean and sweat-slicken form was steadily making its way towards the frozen statue of La'Ix. Just as he got within 50 paces did La'Ix sprint away scattering pebbles in its path the echoes of which bounced back from the valley's sharp walls. Undeterred, the chaser kept steadily running. Jaws grit. Eyes locked on afar.
And afar was its prey. Sprinting away.
HOW IN IX'S NAME DID THAT THING KNOW WHERE I AM? The La'Ix in a fit of sudden excitement mixed with a heavy dose of panic, began its high octane sprint from the sudden looming threat of being found. Hind Legs propelling the creature's body forward, while its front arms, which were historically also for four legged locomotion, pulled the terrain closer with each stride. Increasing its momentum until it reached max speed.
"Broodling La'Ix!" said a stern but educated voice.
"Huh? Oh! Yessir!" a young Ix jumped to attention still thinking about more enjoyable things specifically outside of the classroom walls.
"Well? Can you please answer my question or will you make your other broodkin wait until Ix falls to ash first", the tutor said expectantly, prompting several muffles giggles in the room.
"Sorry sir. What makes the Ixian race its place in eternity is the attention we put in perfection. After our home-world of Ix's climate and terrain began to change, the leaders from antiquity decreed we carry on the spirit of the home-world in maintaining a consistent biological and genetic profile that will always be suited to Ix's surface. As we change worlds to be more like Ix, we can spread the spirit of Ix to them. As such, Change is- uh, change is..."
"Change is the poison of perfection, Remaining unchanged for Ix enable us to carry its spirit to other planets in the heavens", continued the tutor. "Well you certainly paid some attention to today's lesson at the very least. But remember that final part. It's the last of the core tenants you will need to remember."
"Yessir!"
A good half night passed on the surface of the Savanna. Where a previously noble and alert Ixian who took great care in appearances and status was no longer to be seen. Instead of that proud domineering alien representative of ix was a dishevelled, dusty, ragged creature, dehydrated, hungry, and exhausted from the various sprints it forced itself to endure to stay ahead of fate's ever closing hand.
Is this the sword of Damocles that was mentioned in the ancient Terran records? Always hanging down on those who hold power and seek more? Fate's sharp blade? But why me? I was never in any real power. All I wanted out of this life was a comfortable posting with no dirt and grime from the lower worlds. Why me? Why now? Why do I-
La'Ix snapped himself out of a daze. Is he here- No, no I should be far far away from that Terran now. Maybe I can find some-
A dim glow interrupted its train of thought. Much too early to be the Sunrise on the Emperor's summer planet, and much to low to be the light from one of it's 2 moons. It was a light from a town.
"That's right!" The Ixian barely managed to rasp in between haggard breaths. Its body barely able to continue the amount of self inflicted abuse it has suddenly been put in.
A lot more hunched over than the Ixian was earlier. It made its way towards a small town it knew was in between the palace and the harbour. The emperor loved his royal rustic towns and villages. It is said that his royal emperor would sometimes tour around them marvelling at the romantic theme of a simple rustic life. Although getting a personal town full of Ixians required a lot of lower caste be forced into long and expensive work contracts as background entertainers for the king's planet, all this excessive show of wealth was partially for peackocking the emperor's reputation, and partially for his own personal enjoyment. The Emperor is almost culturally required to flaunt his royal wealth in all forms in order to keep connections with all the royal houses. An emperor that doesn't shower their supporting aides and houses with grand gifts is fated to eventually be found cold on the floor of the royal banquet due to 'suicide from accidentally ingesting poison', as was the previous emperor.
To avoid such an unfortunate passing, the Higher Royals would trade vast resources, delicacies, and even exotic slaves to court 'royal favours'. Slaves of the Terran variety especially are considered to be the most unique of gifts the empire has ever acquired.
Terrans weren't necessarily large and bulky. Fighters were assigned to the Slave Obniraks. Powerful creatures used to fill the fields on tougher worlds where mechanical services would be deemed to expensive. The growth of a Obnirak into full working adulthood is only a few cycles. Meaning mass producing a workforce is quite an easy feat.
Terrans instead would take vast cycles to mature from a childling to an average adult. Meaning growing a slave force would take vast quantities of resources, immense patience, and strict guidance from their owners as to not create faulty creatures. All of which increases the general standing on any house that manages to keep a vast amount of Terran slaves in the best quality.
Terrans weren't necessarily docile and obedient. That role was perhaps given to the oldest slave race the Ix ever controlled. The Iralisa. It was known that they were made remarkably docile due to generations upon generations of select breeding, and pruning off the 'aggressive traits' from the gene pool. However, that led to the adverse effect of physically weakening them to a point where such docility and lack of a frame to keep up with their workload led to a general lack of Ixian interest and were subsequently purified.
Terrans are notoriously independent and herd-minded in larger quantities. Similar to growing a very stubborn Terulian Rose Vine. Which only looks impressive when great care have been given. Terrans need to be given an illusion of being ever so slightly free. Which typically involves owning vast amounts of land and nature to let them roam and graze. Of course, the only ones that can accommodate grand work forces of Terrans are the larger houses with the appropriate territory for humans, as is studied in the Ixian art of Servitude.
One can only guess which species is the Emperor's favourite.
The following town should indeed have both, low caste Ixians, and possibly none of the Emperor's favourite slaves.
The Ixian approached the glowing town. As it reached closer it straightened its back, upright on its hindlegs in the royal fashion. And proclaimed. "It is I! La'Ix, royal courtier. Lend me aid imme-"
Something is off. Not a single shadow in the town, I can see lights but no movement, where is every-
After turning the corner to the center of the small town, the dustied and weary creature froze in its tracks when it saw it. A pit nearly as wide as an Ixian land cruiser and who knows how deep filled with a stench so powerful it watered his eyes. Despite the Ixian's lack of a proper sense of smell. It knew the foul fetor of death.
The crudely dug pit was nearly overflowing when he approached it. Large, smoking, smouldering pyres cast that eerie light that had drawn him in.
"H-how? Wha-What the..." he trailed off when a local species of Laran boar growled and squealed as it tore a dead Ixian limb from the mountain of corpses.
"Who could've..."
He stopped. The shock of seeing his own kind laid like broken dolls in a bleeding pit slowly faded, replaced by a numbness. The Ixian had just noticed they were of Ix. Only of Ix.
Not a single terran colour was visible in the black and spotted pit of bodies. Not a single slave body was visible.
I-Impossible...
His legs gave way, either from the strain of the entire nights run, the horror facing him, or the threat from behind. He just dropped.
Minutes passed, or hours. It was hard to tell. But the Ixian lay slumped. Body unwilling to move further. Battered flesh unwilling to be propelled by a shattered spirit.
Mind slowly spinning up again. Thoughts began whirring to life in its mind. Could the rumours actually have been true? It had read the sparse reports of odd activity from certain Ixian-controlled worlds on the outer arms of the empire. Small uprisings of unknown origin. Hardly anything of note. If it had no affect on the greater houses then it was of no real concern to Ix and its emperor.
Could this threat have made its way to the centre arm already? Impossible. But what else could have done this to us?
Something caught the Ixian's eyes. In the middle of the pit it stood. A large stake, wet with deep Ixian crimson, dripping ever so slowly. Towering over the pit like a battlefield flag was a head of an Ixian rammed onto the tip of the spike. But the particular detail that caught the Ixian's eyes was a symbol cut into the flesh of the large forehead.
Looking from the outward-in. Eight concentric rings, which proceeded to get smaller and smaller in size until it reached a dark mass at the centre of the symbol. The Ixian never forgot the symbol and the affect it had on it.
Eight concentric rings, and a centre mass. Eight rings, and a mass. Eight- Eight what? Eight planets? And a star? ...
A growing pool of cold dread rose in its guts that made it shiver despite the fair night. This dread reflected the sharp reality on its frigid surface.
This Ixian was well-bred, well-trained, and well-educated. Although anyone with a basic education would know of such a pattern.
Terra and her sisters. THEIR star system...
Thump, thump, thump, thump.
It's not possible!-
Knowing what that sound meant, the Ixian tried to whirl around, its body barely being able to heed its masters commands. Just when it was starting to move again it felt it.
Sudden sharp agony. Sudden sharp, raging agony. The Ixian looked at it's hind leg. A sharpened wooden stake was jutting out of it.
It loud out a tight lipped scream, as it grasped the pulsating wound as one does immediately after an injury. It barely had enough time to look up at its attacker when the Terran bolted forward, shortening the distance between hunter and prey from metres to mere paces. The Ixian barely had enough time to block the hand grasping the knife as the arm flew forward at the last minute with a crash.
What phenomenal force!
Using the momentum from that sprint plus the wind up of his arm. The Terran was able to impart a phenomal show of force for a creature its size. That's when La'Ix for the first time saw a human in its raw unchanged form. Great beads of sweat collecting dust on its brow, to prevent it from entering the eyes. The constant release of sweat from the countless pores on its soft fleshy skin. Constant cooling? Even the visible veins and capillaries visible from the fire light.
What a beast of endurance-
Suddenly the horizon fell before the Ixian only to reveal the inky black sky dotted with pigments from stars like a painters masterpiece. When did I look up? Then a crash and blunt force from the ground.
The Ixian had been toppled over by that ferocious exchange of force.
Barely able to get up due to the wind being knocked out of its single large lung, the searing pain in its hind leg, and the exhaustion from the chase. It was too late. The terran was already on top of it. Taking up the entire view of the sky as the terran stepped forward into its field of vision.
The sudden perspective change made a once small and frail looking slave look grander than life, grander than all the legends told to Ixian broodlings.
The punches rained down. Repeatedly. A constant bombardment of beating rained like the drops of rain before the first dew. The previous pain in its leg forgotten, to invite a new visitor in the form of blunt force trauma. So ferocious were the raw blows to its carapace that the Ixian felt the exoskeleton crack under the increasing pressure and strain.
Something cracked, another thing snapped. The amount of pain too much to comprehend. The neurons firing in its second brain just assumed it was everywhere. Its half-working eye glimpsed the fist as it came down for the nth time. Red and split knuckles, revealing pure white bone beneath—a reinforced weapon. The perfect natural offence. All the muscles moved to propel it downwards where something else cracked and split.
Is this where I die?
As if understanding its fate the Ixian's form slumped over. Its body barely holding onto the natural exoskeleton shielding that covered its chest and facial area. Fluids leaking from the cracks that went too deep, and who knows how many internal ribs are shattered.
Its body, knowing that that more movement will cause more injuries, and further stimuli would confuse it further. It simply shut down.
The last moments it had as it fell backwards on its side. Was a small running figure. Hand clutching wooden spears. But the truly petrifying sight was behind it. A vast shadow flickering from the light of the lit pyres from the hunter in front of it. A shadow cast so large, jagged, and menacing it appeared to swallow the town whole.
And into a hole did the Ixian fall. A vacuum with no sensation or thought. Just darkness.
How... did we never notice such a... monster... in their... shadow...
All Ixians were taught about 'violence' and 'conflict' at an early age. As a sort of rite of passage that any of them would go through as they survive their early broodling days. As Ix have no natural predators, they had begun to instil a serving of some necessary conflict to keep their generations fresh and somewhat physically strong. As a precaution, only rudimentary forms of civil sports, races, shows of strength and courage were ever really explored. But always in a controlled and calm settings, as there would never be any true need for actual conflict.
As there was always a need to maintain ones own environment. The need never arose for the development of fighting techniques and schools of training. That was one of the best parts of being an Ix that many thought. Having supreme control over the worlds you inhabit means setting gravity, atmospheric pressure, humidity, and temperatures to the perfect levels for comfort replaced any need for biological change. Why grow when you can keep everything the same way, how you like it.
They were a vast empire. An empire of statues.
-Excerpt from the history of extra-solarian species, Author unknown
It awoke to a burning radiating heat from in front. The large sun was already starting to set on the horizon when it awoke. Had a whole day passed? Or two?
Trying to block the setting sun from its eyes it couldn't. "What?...", barely made out in a whisper.
I'm tied up.
And indeed the Ixian was right. Tied up next to a small brook, with a scorching fire in front of it. The monster nowhere to be seen.
"No good... it's too tight", it grunted in an attempt to escape its bindings.
Going slack in defeat it avoided any additional movement. Not having the energy to spare to move. It was lucky to have always been lazy at shedding its carapace - a frequent nag from its broodmother - might just have become its salvation in this case.
Thank Ix.
So there it stayed.
Hours passed. The Sun fully set and the stars awake in this dark world barely lit up the wildlands. Only the prisoner in this cone of firelight existed out here.
A rustling up ahead caught the prisoner's attention disturbing the eerily still silence of the Savannah night. And ungodly horror of a squeal ruptured the air invoking a deep visceral terror within the bound prisoner. Something. Something close but just outside the firelight was eyeing it, glinting from beyond the light. Those dark predatory eyes stabbed the prisoner with a sudden coldness. All while the squealing suddenly halted. SNAP. SQUELCH.
Now it came, emerging into the light. A beast. Holding a knife in one bloodied hand, dripping on the dirt. And dragging by the leg, a massive adult Laran boar grotesquely smearing thick blood still warm from the cut in the neck on the dirt.
The prisoner watched, barely moving, barely breathing. Frozen with the horror in front of it as the bloodied carcass was skinned; fur sliced away with harsh, scraping sounds with the crude knife. Spurting remaining blood all over the site.
The pink naked flesh then washed in the brook, leaving a distinct smell of oxidised blood in the air, before being skewered and roasted over the roaring flames. Fat popping violently in the heat.
In this gruesome display, the beast revealed not just a fate for the boar, but a dark hint of what might come. The realisation struck deep—this could be more than just a demonstration; it was a terrifying preview of its own potential end.
It passed out again.
Only to be awoken by the haunting echoes of a wild, desperate squeal that once thrummed through the savannah's eerie silence. Dare it open its eyes?
After a great heavy effort -utilizing its every last drop of courage- one eye cracked open. And what it saw. Made it regret ever having done so.
Right across from it, the hunter was a grotesque silhouette against the flickering fire. Grasping a severed boar leg was a mouth viciously biting, ripping, tearing into the flesh with primal ferocity. Each bite was deliberate, each tear of sinew was a clear, calculated demonstration of supreme savagery. Its jaw muscles bulged with the force of a bite.
All the while, the eyes—deep, abyssal pits—fixed intently on the prisoner. Deepest black pits stared back at it. Watching. Observing. Calculating, with a dark intelligence. it was calculating. It was relishing the terror it inspired and the control it exerted. Or planning its next meal.
The sounds of ripping flesh filled the thick, blood-soaked air. Deep into the night. Deep into this never-ending nightmare.
Never once did the prisoner move. Not an iota. Frozen in abject horror.
The night passed quietly. After the feast the human had, or the desecration of life that the prisoner saw, whichever way you look at it. The human nodded off to sleep. Content in the success of his mission. But the tied up creature had no such rest. Sending silent pleas to the stars that it might be saved. But not daring to make a sound, less it awaken that sleeping horror. Or was it sleeping? Dear Ix, it might be watching me. Feigning sleep to keep an eye on its meal. Dear Ix I'm next...
All through the night, the demons plagued its mind. Until the warmth of the morning rose, and with it the sound of an Ixian cruiser.
Elation could not be an understatement for the tired, tied, beat, and bruised thing. Craning its neck to the direction of the sound about to bellow out an Ixian warning to the demon resting next it.
"BE CAREFUL! THERE'S ONE HERE-". It stopped speaking. That previous elation it felt at a saviour arriving to rescue it from the demons grasp, fizzled out like a drop of water in a drought.
That all so familiar cold remained. And the dryness of despair. As pairs of dark pupils shot back at it.
On the cruiser were tall adult Terrans. Clean cut, well fed, well dressed Terrans. Four, no Six, no eight of them. All hanging onto the side of cruiser while it made its way to their location. Compared to the demon waking up beside it, these creatures were organised. A savageness neatly packaged in a uniform with a symbol. The prisoners eyes grew wide in its sunken sockets. 8 rings, and a centre mass. They must be the cause of, well all this.
Accepting fate, its head fell in part defiance, in part to avoid the stinging eyes of these others. It felt their gaze burn through—cold, cruel, calculating. There is nothing I can do any longer.
"You're finally here. What took you so long?" The runner said to his approaching comrades, "Took all night to catch up to him."
"Hey Jan, great work", the tall militant woman shot back. With a playful punch to his arm. "Guess all that cardio really paid off, didn't I tell you it would!" She let out a playful guffaw.
"Thanks Chel", replied Jan.
"Ok chop chop people, we're on a schedule. We need to reach the port ASAP remember? Come on Jan, rest up all you like, you're still on the clock."
"Aye sir." Jan shot back in a mock salute, gaining a sneer from the commandant, then a sneaky smile.
"Don't forget your trash. And make sure its breathing still."
It creaked open its eyes, seeing pairs of boots moving towards it and standing in front. In silence. Then all of a sudden, felt pairs and pairs of hands pull and tug. and lift it up The thing let out a pathetic silent sob. While it was loaded in the back of the cruiser, face up. Staring at eyes, piercing black dots peering back. It could never understand what was being felt by those eyes and those faces.
Ixians wear their emotions on their carapace; spots and stripes would slowly appear in certain parts, representing emotions and feeling that their bodies felt in a general sense. But the most private thoughts were of course, still kept private.
But this. This was just too foreign. The eyes never stopped. Even in the swaying movement of the cruiser the pupils never broke contact. Those eyes. As if it was peering into it, envelops your entire mind. There was no way to hide, even hiding in his inner self would do no good. Those eyes. Those predator eyes can find me anywhere I try to escape to. Inside and out.
Some times passes.
"You know. I lost good friends to the royal caste. Especially to this one's brood clan or whatever they like to call it." One of them was looking right at it when they said it. It turned its eyes over to the source. A short one, with a slave scar on the neck said it. A scar that shot through his memories. A scar inflicted to property owned by, his brood. This one is dangerous..., it thought.
Jan, and the others didn't look but felt it. The cold darkness in that tone made it clear what it intended to do.
The female militant, Chel, I think her name was. Slowly reached to the side arm on her holster. Sensing the oncoming problem.
"You still understand me don't you? I've had to watch good people die. Damn good people." The scarred one one stood, grabbing the upper rail of the cruiser to steady themselves. "I hear that even if you get ill, you become the entertainment for the night. What was it now?" She paused for a brief second. "Oh I remember".
"Stil" Chel said slowly. "Cool it". Hand still on the butt of the sidearm.
Not hearing or not wanting to reply. Stil continued. "Torn apart by those raptor pets. Hands or feet cut off as souvenirs for those fucked-up parties and those fucked-up guests. Oh yea, and the 'toy play' or whatever they call it. Can't have Ken and Barbie fight back now, can we?"
Stil leaned closer to the now cowering, shaking thing, "I wonder which one was your favourite." The words cut through La'Ix like an icicle. This was the first time these demons actually spoke to it directly. And it didn't like it. It could sense the venom from the words.
"Stil..." Chel slowly got up, hand still at the ready. "I said cool it." The line had a steely warning to it. Chel wouldn't risk the mission. Even if it meant doing what must be done.
Agonizing seconds passed. The cowering, shaking thing seemed to grow whiter and whiter by the second, It's spots clearly showing what it felt. Staring up, Not willing to move but being unable to hide. It felt the absolute crushing weight of the present. Grinding it down to a paste.
Everyone stayed still. The two militants didn't move. The rest didn't seem to even have paid attention to the converstation, still looked away.
Longer passed.
Stil smiled, "Oh come on Chel, you know I wouldn't do anything to our friend here? You know I was just playing around." Stil laughed. Chel didn't react.
Stil immediately crouched, faced the shaking prisoner inches apart eye to eye, and in a whisper said "Right friend?"
She wants me to reply? Dear Ix I can't even think with those eyes in front of me What do I do?! What do I say?!
"Right. Friend?" Stil repeated slower and colder. Like the blade of a surgeon hovering over skin, ready to plunge.
The gears of its Ixian brain grinded to a screeching halt. In utter desperation to find a reply it simply gave up. Instead, it felt a warmth slowly spread. Slowly spread between its hind legs. It had released its bladder.
"BAHAHAHAHA LOOK AT IT" Stil roared in laughter. The sound of it rattling the prisoners brain with the sound. Disorienting its senses. "NOW THAT'S CLASSIC TIMING IF I'VE EVER SEEN IT!" She plopped back down face red and still laughing.
The Ixian didn't know what to do but tremble and sob silently on the cold surface of the cruiser surrounded by laughter. and the warmth of its piss. It tried to plug its ears. But the sound still came. Laughter. Laughter. Laughter. Dear Ix, what are these demons... where are they taking me? To hell?...
The cruiser kept cruising. Towards the port across the island. Trailing laughter behind. Or to the sobbing wreck of a thing, demonic cackling.
The scent of familiarity wafted into the senses of the prisoner as the cruiser started to slow. The smell of the salt, the chirping of familiar aviaries. Sound of the crash of sea. The port.
Braving a sentence for the first time in for what seems eternity. It let out a question "...w..w..where ... why... are... ... we ...h... here?" It managed to say shakily, eyes downcast.
As if in response, a sharp shove greeted it from the back and a hard hit on the ground was as much of an answer it was getting.
"Move it", Jan said gruffly.
They walked. the ixian still bound but free to walk in the middle of the group of humans. Towards a destination still not known. The walk twisted, and turned, and twisted again. One thing struck out to the prisoner. It was too clean, especially for what it was expecting, it's last experience being in the previous blood-soaked town laden with bodies and carrion eaters.
The port town was completely silent, free from the regular hustle and bustle it usually had even when the emperor was not present. And superbly clean. Not a single piece of dirt to be seen. Not a single Ixian either. Where did everyone go? Did they make it out somehow when these invaders came?
In the background, the surf broke relentlessly.
Piercing eyes caught the prisoners glance, as it wandered curiously around the town. Realising its mistake La'Ix tried to look away but the burning gaze gripped his own.
As if reading its soul. The human answered the hidden question bubbling up in La'Ix. "You should've seen them your royal majesty". The one called Stil said while bending in mocking courtesy.
The surf pounded the shore even more loudly now.
"They don't swim well. Especially the young ones. They dropped like stones. Turning all white by the time they stopped moving."
Louder now. The sea roared.
Nothing came. Not a thought in La'Ix's mind. Its mind struggled to comprehend the depth of what was said by Stil, the scarred human.
The waves boomed louder now. Louder than the sun, echoing louder than the screams of all the Ixians that must have perished.
It saw the lips of the standing-devil in front of it. But all the came from its blood red lips were obscured by the sound of the pounding of the waves. The echoes of drowned kin, thudding and slapping against the shore, merged with the relentless surf in La'Ix's mind.
This is for our sins.
Wave after wave, the relentless surge continued, each one a haunting reminder of the souls lost to the sea, each crash a ghostly thud of bodies hitting the shore.
Very slowly did some exhausted neuron in the Ixian's head come to a conclusion as to how these creatures in front of it can be so relentless, so cruel, and so evil. When pushed to beyond its breaking point, did their true carnivorous instincts rear their ugly head.
Oh dear Ix. What sort of environment could breed such demons?
La'Ix didn't remember what happened next. The memories feel like a distant dream now as he sits watching the port sky now.
The aching brand on his forehead of the 8 ringed system, pulsed in pain—a departing gift from his newly made friends, stung from the salty sea air.
He barely recalls the staggered walk from the empty inter-arm transmission office and the inputting of his biometric royal seal. He barely even remembers the message that was sent under his name and signature
And even less does he remember what he heard what will happen next.
All alone now, he stares at the sky of the empty port town. As he watches more royal ships enter the atmosphere.
He gazes upward, thoughtlessly, statue-like Knowing fate will come for them all. Fate in the form of piercing black eyes and a monster so large it can fit in a shadow.
A single thought, carried its way from above the despair to the surface. Slowly. Like a bubble in a pool of tar.
What was I meant to tell the emperor again?

It has been 20 years since the first calamity struck Earth. A massive wave of solar radiation from a nearby star known as Prometheus 673B showered our solar system in 2025. Electronics have been rendered useless for months, giving humanity the glimpse of what life was like long before. But that was merely temporary. The true effect of the solar flare came in the form of an illness, that afflicted roughly 10% of the current population. Unlike anything we've ever seen, the illness did not kill, rather enhanced the afflicted. For the first time in human history, the term Esper was used seriously. Dubbed the Awoken, those afflicted with illness that stemmed from the solar flare of Prometheus, gained the ability to manifest their own thoughts into reality, with varying degrees of success. At first, nations and laws, society as whole, was not prepared to deal with these new humans and their abilities. Crime ran rampant for a while.
Five years after the incident, the world banded together in a unified front, known as the AMA, The Awoken Management Agency, a world wide agency tasked with handling and controlling the Awoken, allowing humanity to once more function as a whole. Satellites have been sent out as far Earth's gaze into space could reach, to watch our for any other potential cosmic events that may occur, like the one that happened with Prometheus back in '25.
Now, 20 years since the first incident, the satellites have picked up another major cosmic event on the horizon, this time coming from the Aquila constellation. Is humanity ready to withstand whatever cosmos has prepared for it?
[]
"Kenji. Wake up! You'll be later for your lectures, again."
The young man groaned, slowly turning to his side in bed, looking at his mother that stood at the doorway. "I'm up, I'm up."
Yawning and stretching, he sat up in bed, running his fingers through his hair, before turning to check the small clock on his nightstand.
"Wha? Late? Mom, it's only 8. Lectures don't start until 10." He sighed.
"Oh well. No need to cut it short, right? Plus, I've made breakfast." His mother replied and went back downstairs.
[]
AMA Information Database:
Kenji Aoto. Age: 21 Category: Type 1 Awoken Ability: Embodiment. The unique ability of Kenji Aoto, unlike other Awoken of the same type, allows him to alter his own body based on how he feels. Most Type 1s change their environment around them, rather than themselves. Type 1s are classified as such for having abilities that considered non dangerous to the general non awoken population.
[]
"We've got a lot of promising talent this year huh?" Nathaniel said to his daughter, as the two looked down at the auditorium full of students. The dean of the university was preparing his usual welcoming speech, as the assistants tried to quiet down the murmurs of the students.
"Yeah, we sure do." Clara smiled, not taking her eyes off the scene. "Quite a good number of Awoken too."
"Anyone interesting in particular?" Nathaniel asked.
"No, not really. They all have the standard abilities you would expect out of a type 1. Same level of control to boot." She responded.
"Well, I look forward to being their professor." Her father smiled, inhaling deeply. "The smell of youthful energy, so amazing. I can still remember your first day as a freshman."
Clara blushed a bit, nudging him in the ribs with her elbow. "Shouldn't you be down there giving your speech, Dr. Offset?"
Nathaniel rubbed the back of his neck with a slightly embarrasses laugh to boot. "Oh don't call me that. Ahem, yeah. I'll be going now. See you later for lunch?"
"Of course dad." Clara smiled, giving her father a little wave as he left the teacher conference room.
[]
AMA Information database:
Clara Harris. Age: 32 Category: Non-Awoken (regular human) The lead ambassador for Awoken rights and unification in the AMA. Daughter of the lead researcher in Awoken development and the head teacher of the Awoken department in Nagoya University, Japan, Nathaniel Harris.
Nathaniel Harris. Age: 55 Category: Type 2 Awoken Ability: Offset. Acquired during the first Prometheus flare, the ability of Dr. Offset (he thought the name was cool when he was in his 20s), allows him to offset numerical values. Though touching an object is not required to use the ability on it, the potency of the ability greatly improved when he has direct contact with it. This also extends to, in theory, numerical values pertaining to objects and their position in space, relative to Nathaniel. Meaning he can move objects or parts of them relative to where he's standing, by changing their coordinates, however there were no recorded instances of him doing so. Examples include: Increasing or reducing the temperature of a beverage by direct contact. Increasing or decreasing friction on a surface of an object temporarily by touching it.
In his youth, Nathaniel attempted to become a sort of hero, once his powers kicked in, but due to the very low potency of his abilities, he never really managed to make the cut as one, despite being a type 2. Type 2s are classified as such due to having abilities that could be considered dangerous, powerful or harmful for the general non awoken population.
[]
Location: Russia, Siberia. Time: 22:37 Facility: Maximum security prison for Awoken criminals in Russia, cell block 5.
Theodore laid in his bunk, staring at the ceiling. Each of his breaths released a soft cloud of vapor, that commonly occurs when someone is in a cold environment. In his case, the vapor was a byproduct of his ability, rather than the cold cell we was in. A thug with a love for violence, turned bank robber when his abilities fully developed, Theodore terrorized Russia and the neighboring countries. It wasn't until the AMA was finally assembled and operational, that he was arrested and sentenced to multiple life sentences in this highest security prison that Russia had at a time.
Even after being sent behind bars, he kept up his antics, becoming a nightmare for the guards and inmates alike. No man that was placed in a cell with him would last more than a few days before demanding transfer. Some even lost their lives to the former thugs whims, before their transfer requests could be approved. Hence Theodore has been placed in solitary, a cell designed with all the tech necessary to nullify his ability. There he spent the last 10 years of his life.
Despite being a type 1, an awoken with abilities that were not classified as dangerous to the general population, Theodore managed to use them to their fullest extent. His blessing of temperature manipulation, was a curse to everyone around him.
He looked outside, at the night sky, through his small cell window. Apparently, there was a big stellar event, similar to the one 20 years ago, that gave him the powers he now has. He heard guards and other inmates talk about it, how AMA is now prepared for such an event.
Theodore closed his eyes, imagining what this aurora would look like. The memory of that night, when Prometheus 673B's flare struck earth still fresh in his mind like it was yesterday. The otherworldly mixture of reds and yellows and greens. Like a primordial fire that was lit across the night sky.
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps outside his cell snapped him out of his memory.
"Huh?" He adjusted in bed, to see who was outside his cell.
A man, in a white cloak with golden details, stood outside his cell. Theodore was confused. The man was not one of the guards, he was bare footed and did not wear any uniform. And no way he was one of the other inmates, no one had the capabilities to leave their cells without being let out.
"Hey, who the hell are you? How did you get here? The guards letting us out or something?" The criminal walked over to his cell door. The bars were made of material that could withstand sudden changes in temperature without bending or breaking, preventing him from getting out.
The man said nothing, he didn't even turn towards the convict, he merely stood there, hood covering his as he looked up at the night sky through the decorative windows on the buildings roof.
"Hey asshat! I asked you a question. How the fuck did you get out of your cell? C'mon man, don't be a dick, let me out too." Theodore grabbed the bars and rattled them.
The cloaked man finally turned towards him. The convict was stunned, only for a second. The man has a beard and long hair, both as white as his cloak. But his eyes, they were as blue as the midday sky. He could have sworn energy seemed to pour out of them. Before he could say another word, the figure before him extended his hand at him, and with a snap of his fingers, a bold of lightning struck Theodore square in the chest. The convict was send flying, back hitting the wall opposite the cell doors.
[]
Location: Brazil, San Paolo. Time: 16:37 Facility: Remodeled Taubaté Prison, cell block 3.
Vitor sat on the bench press, just finishing a set, looking over the prison yard. Even behind bars, his connections did not dwindle. A former petty drug dealer, Vitor Alves quickly rose to power and influence once his powers awoke. He employed other Awoken with criminal tendencies as his own personal task force to drive all other competition into the ground. Once he held the entirety of San Paolo's drug empire in his hand, he set his sights farther. We wanted the entire city for himself, believing that no one could challenge his claim to that right.
With the help of the AMA, the Brazilian government swiftly put his plan to rest, and Vitor behind bars. The fight between the Awoken under Alves and the AMA/Brazilian forces was indeed a bloody one and resulted in a good number of civilian casualties. The drug lord was sent to Taubate, where he would spend the rest of his life. The prison was remodeled, per AMA standards, to be fully equipped and capable of holding Awoken criminals.
Despite having powers of temperature manipulation, capable of increasing temperature to lethal amounts, Vitor did not believe that to be his strongest ability. Money, influence, connections, those were real power, what truly carried him to the top of the criminal world.
Even now, as he sat on the bench press, doing a few reps before looking over the yard, Vitor was not powerless in the outside world. He waited on his informant, his connection to the outside, to appear so he could delegate orders to what was left of his followers and empire on the outside.
He wasn't sure if it was something he ate, or the heat from the pounding sun. Maybe it was even that sky flare that he heard AMA guards mention. Something indeed felt off, his vision seemed a bit blurry. As if the entire prison courtyard was moving slowly right before him. But the informant should be there soon, so Vitor decided not to go back to his cell just yet.
The other inmates, guards, even the basketball that the inmates played hoops with, suddenly slowed down to a halt. Through the statue like crowd, a single figure moved over to Vitor. His feet were bare, his body and face hidden behind a hooded cloak. The drug lord could only see his white beard and his eyes, as they seemed to be glowing a faint blue glow. Before he even got a chance to speak, the man extended his hand towards him and with a smirk, snapped his fingers, sending a bolt of lightning straight into the mans body, causing Vitor to fly several feet and collapse on the ground.
[]
"Ugh... What the fuck man?" Theodore cursed, as he regained his consciousness. Slowly, he got up to his knees, his head pounding like he was struck by a hammer. The cell felt colder than before. Looking around, he saw the entire cell frozen, every surface covered by a thick layer of ice. Bed, toilet, the cell doors, frozen solid. And the ice shifted. With every movement of his hands, the ice followed.
"Could it be?" The inmate whispered, focusing his mind, channeling his ability. Ice began to form in the palm of his hand, morphing freely. With a single wave of his hand, the frozen bed shattered into bits and pieces. Theodore inhaled, getting up to his feet, head still in pain. But the realization was crystal clear. He could now freeze things without having to touch them, manipulate what he froze, as well create ice out by freezing the water in the air. With a grin plastered across his face, Theodore thanked the mysterious man, of who there was not a single trace left, and decided that he's busting himself out of prison.
[]
"WARNING! WARNING! WARNING. PRISON BREAKS DETECTED ACROSS MULTIPLE AMA FACILITIES!" Blared the system on screen at the Awoken Management Agency in Nagoya. Other HQs across the globe received the same warning.
"What the hell is going on?" Clara said, running into the monitoring hall.
"I don't know. Prison breaks, across multiple locations world wide." Kaito replied, his eyes not leaving the monitors as he fired up the surveillance drones on the impacted locations.
"The main facilities that were absolutely totaled are Siberia and San Paolo." He continued.
"Think it could be?" Clara asked.
"Not possible. The protection against solar flares was at full power. Not a single particle should have hit the ground. I mean, we didn't lose any tech, unlike last time." Kaito shot her question down, pulling up the drone feed of the two prisons.
Taubate was in flames. The entire facility seemed to be entirely engulfed in a raging fire. The Russian counterpart held no better either. The entire prison was torn apart by massive glacier like formations, that seemed to jut out of the ground.
Clara, Kaito and other technicians presents stared, slackjawed, at the live drone feed. Something like that was not possible, no Awoken held that level of power. Not even if multiple Awoken united, could they produce that level of destruction across such a large area.
"Wait wait! What's that? Zoom in on one of the glaciers!" One of the technicians said, pointing at the big monitors.
Kaito's fingers flew across the keyboard, as the drone moved closer and the video on screen zoomed to its maximum. On one of the glacier formations, sat a man, clearly an inmate based on the jumpsuit he was wearing.
"Running identification." Chimed the computer.
"Inmate 4012: Theodore Ivarovski. Age: 36. Category: Type 1 Awoken. Ability: Low drop. His ability allows him to significantly drop the temperature of anything he touches, almost instantly."
"He's a type 1. No way in hell that he could pull of something like this." Clara said, eyes glued to the screed. "He must have re-awoken, there is no other explanation."
"Clara, in the last 20 years since the Prometheus, there was never a single instance of that happening. Some Awoken do push their abilities past the initial capabilities, but that's usually the end of it. It's a conspiracy theory." Kaito mumbled.
"Then how do you explain THAT?" She said, pointing at a massive piece of ice that was quickly forming above Ivarovski, before being sent flying towards the drone and cutting off the live feed.
[]
(Howdy y'all. This is a bit different from my usual write style, with a more manga like story/narration instead of the standard story/novel format I do. I hope you like it, I came up with it months ago, but due to time constrains with work I haven't gotten around to writing it. Based on how it's received, I may continue this along side Sand & Steel. You can read S&S on here:
Royal Road
Wattpad
Scribble Hub
Hope y'all have a nice day.
-M.W.A.)

I am pretty talented in the kitchen but not so much my smoker(which I don’t use as often as I should) On Saturday I am making dinner for my girlfriend’s family and will be having 8 people over. I am wanting to smoke some burgers and looking for some tips. My plan is to do 1/4 patties and do a reverse sear. Also apparently adding frozen shaved butter to the meat mixture makes them juicier which I just recently learned. What temperature and how long would you all recommend for a reverse sear?
The rest will be bacon, sautéed onion and a jalapeño aioli with Gouda on a ciabatta with toasted with garlic butter. Purple potato fries and beer battered onion rings.

Winter not only brings the beauty of snow-covered landscapes but also a host of challenges, particularly for homeowners. Among these challenges are frozen door locks, which can be a significant inconvenience, especially when you're in a hurry. Using a motor lock kit is the best option to overcome the conditions more easily without taking much time. This guide explores various practical methods to unfreeze your door lock quickly and efficiently, ensuring you can access your home without trouble.

1. Use WD-40

WD-40 is an excellent preventative measure for door locks. Spraying your locks with WD-40 can prevent ice from building up within the lock mechanism. To apply, insert the nozzle directly against the lock opening and spray for about five seconds. For best results, treat your locks with WD-40 twice a week during cold weather to maintain their condition.

2. Cover the Lock Opening

On the other hand, the unfreezing door lock must play an important role, and it must be repaired easier. Protecting the lock opening can significantly reduce the likelihood of freezing. One simple method is to place a strong magnet over the lock. The magnet covers the lock opening, reducing the room for moisture to enter, which is a primary cause of freezing. If a magnet is not available, an alternative is to use a wool sock. Make sure it is snug around the lock to provide sufficient insulation.

3. Apply Vaseline or Petroleum Jelly

Applying a coat of Vaseline or petroleum jelly to your door lock can block moisture and prevent freezing. Smear a small amount onto your key and insert it into the lock, coating the internal mechanism as thoroughly as possible. This method is particularly useful for both traditional and combination locks, providing lasting protection throughout the winter.

4. Utilize Hand Sanitizer

Hand sanitizer is an effective tool for unfreezing locks due to its alcohol content, which lowers the freezing point of water. Simply apply a small amount of hand sanitizer to your key and the lock mechanism. This method not only thaws ice quickly but also helps prevent future ice formation.

5. Keep a De-icer Ready

Always have a bottle of de-icer handy during the winter months. Similar to WD-40, spray the de-icer directly into the keyhole to dissolve any ice within the lock mechanism. Regular application can ensure your locks remain functional even in freezing temperatures.

6. Pour Hot Water (With Caution)

Pouring hot water over a frozen lock is a quick fix that can melt the ice. However, this method requires caution to avoid burns and potential damage to the lock mechanism. Use this method as a last resort and dry the lock thoroughly afterward to prevent refreezing.

7. Use a Hairdryer

If you have access to electricity near the door, using a hairdryer can be a safe and effective way to thaw a frozen lock. Hold the hairdryer a few inches away from the lock and allow the warm air to blow directly onto the frozen mechanism. This method is safe for both home and commercial locks and can unfreeze a lock within minutes.

8. Create Your Own De-icer

Mixing isopropyl alcohol with warm water creates an effective homemade de-icer. Apply this solution directly to the frozen lock to melt the ice. This mixture not only acts as a de-icer but also serves as a cleaning agent, helping maintain the lock in good condition.

9. Explore Advanced Solutions: Nanoparticle De-icers

For those seeking a high-tech solution, consider de-icers that utilize nanoparticle technology. These products are designed to prevent re-freezing and offer protection down to extremely low temperatures. Always check the product details to ensure compatibility with your lock.

Conclusion

Dealing with a frozen door lock is a common winter nuisance, but with the right tools and techniques, it can be easily managed. Whether you choose a simple mechanical method like using WD-40 or a more sophisticated approach like nanoparticle de-icers, the key is to prepare in advance and apply these solutions before the onset of severe weather. By following these tips, homeowners can ensure that their door locks remain accessible and functional, no matter how cold it gets.

ryzen 5 5600 with, thermalright frozen notte 240 aio cooler.
I have my mystic lights as my cpu temperature(50 greem, 70 blue,90 red). I havent changed anything but when playing val today. It was averaging the color red (or pink <90C) but yesterday it only spikes up to purple (70-80 ish). I never changed anything except add a wifi pcie and moved my setup, on bios, made sure everything was default fan speed and never overclocked.
any thoughts. I think my cpu around 70 to 80 ish is a bit high but now its basically killing itself over 90. Right now in reddit, cpu usage is 5-8C and core temp is 50C. Valorant average 14-25% cpu usage 70C.
I want it to be less than that cuz im paranoid. I built it myself, no dust yet and case has good airflow i think. With bios idk. I troubleshoot aio, It shows up in bios, bottleneck when cpu temp is high and i guess does its job but not well as i hope. Pls send help

ryzen 5 5600 with, thermalright frozen notte 240 aio cooler.
I have my mystic lights as my cpu temperature(50° greem, 70° blue, 90°red). I havent changed anything but when playing val today. It was averaging the color red (or pink <90°C) but yesterday it only spikes up to purple (70-80° ish). I never changed anything except add a wifi pcie and moved my setup, on bios, made sure everything was default fan speed and never overclocked.
any thoughts. I my cpu averages around 70 to 80 ish is a bit high but now its basically killing itself over 90. Right now in reddit, cpu usage is 5-8% and core temp is 50°C. Valorant average 14-25% cpu usage but 70C°.
I want it to be less than that cuz im paranoid. I built it myself, no dust yet and case has good airflow i think. With bios idk. I troubleshoot aio, It shows up in bios, bottleneck when cpu temp is high and i guess does its job but not well as i hope. Pls send help

ACT 1. Sunday afternoon after visiting the local market two brothers wait for their train to arrive. If they were even a minute late, they knew their mother would surely scold them and scold the elder of the two far worse. The idea of another beating did not bother the elder brother; he had been through far worse just dealing with the brat and his attempted jailbreaks, though something did begin to make him painfully nauseous forcing him to feel pressured by the light breeze as if gravity had suddenly been increased tenfold. All his senses were heightening beyond anything he had thought possible.All around him he saw that the once energetic and hyperactive passengers had become little more than mannequins; their movements slowing to a standstill. They had all gone silent. The station was no longer filled with the cries of children or the gentle laughs of their parents. He had never heard such silence in such a crowded location. He did not feel panicked, nor did he feel a need to act for this silence was oddly comforting to him. However, the newly calm atmosphere would quickly be the source of a lifetime of suffering.His hand began to reach for his brother in an attempt to call his attention. Though in a moment of both unprecedented shock and exhaustion John shoved his younger brother onto the rails of an oncoming train. Local news would report the incident as nothing more than a tragic manic episode of a young sixteen-year-old. However, for John this single visceral instant in which all of his brother's bones were instantly crushed was stretched into hours. He was painfully aware of how every bone in his brother's body contorted in inhuman ways some nearly resembling perfect right angles, until eventually, they snapped and sent insurmountable pain throughout his nervous system. His blood curling screams were made mute by the screech of the train coming to a halt, though, by the time they stopped, his brother had torn his every vocal cord and had long ago lost consciousness. Still on the platform, the elder brother stood still, attempting to process what exactly he had done. He had no idea what force had compelled him to push his brother, but that instant would forever define what he saw as reality.That however was nineteen years ago, in present day he lived in isolation far from any person. He spent his isolated days wandering the land around his cabin completing house chores that distracted him from reminiscing about his days in the asylum or as he liked to call it “The Echo Room” where he was transferred after the incident. He headed inside after spending a portion of his morning counting all one-hundred-and-thirty-two trees that were showing signs of life after the harsh winter that nearly forced him to cut down two of them for firewood. Once inside he began preparing his morning coffee when he heard a loud creak come from the hall. He (after many incidents) learnt to avoid the boards that creaked, so in his mind immediately an intruder was breaking into his cabin searching for food or his stash of special edition coffee. Deciding to investigate he walked towards the noise when suddenly he heard two knocks at his front door. Confused and slightly worried, he proceeded to walk towards the door making sure not to step on any of the annoyingly loud floorboards.He approached and looked through the peephole and saw only what remained of the melting snow outside. Opening the door, he saw that only his steps led to the doormat. He glanced around and saw no indication of any life aside a few dark patches on the snow. He was about to close the door when he noticed a tiny red package wrapped in a radiant red bow placed clear from where the door would open. Cautiously picking it up, he noticed how it had almost no weight to it; as if empty. He walked inside and sat at his desk planning to journal later about the weird morning he had been having. He examined the exterior of the package and saw how not only was it near perfect condition but it was also slightly warm to the touch; as if recently held. He undid the bow and cautiously opened the package, half expecting an explosive of some sort. Though, all he found was a ragged ripped piece of paper. Unremarkable aside from the fact that it was inside such a carefully constructed package. On the other side he saw that it had some scarlet lettering inscribed into it reading.“Ouroboros”. At first believing it to be a prank by the kids who had heard rumors about him, and his incident, nearly caused him to dismiss it entirely deeming it little more than a slightly humorous event. He decided to put it aside for now as he had coffee left to drink that was quickly getting cold. He walked back towards the kitchen still distracted by the idea of no trace being left by whoever had left the gift. Was it even a gift? Maybe it was just some well-executed prank? In any manner he would later have a better look at it. He absentmindedly, reached for his cup and immediately pulled his hand back shocked by the temperature of the cup. It was frozen! Almost to a complete solid. He thought himself slightly distracted but not enough to freeze his morning coffee especially not his special edition coffee. First The Box and now this, it was all adding up to an annoying morning. Was it still morning? No, that’s not right. He had just spent the day counting trees. How could it still possibly be morning?The thought of Dr. Lumis being correct about his mental condition after so many years sent a chill down his spine especially since last time they talked, he did not exactly behave amicably. He was sure that both incidents had been isolated events that could never happen again. Sure, he had heard the echoes every once in a while, but he was never insane like the others; this he knew to be a fact. If he was insane, how could he have ever left? Disoriented and beginning to sweat, his legs suddenly gave out causing him to fall backward landing on the cold wooden floorboards. He looked around hurriedly expecting to see an intruder that had somehow found him. After seeing nothing but his pristine furniture, he steadied himself and began to control his breathing. He slowly got up causing the wood underneath to creak under the sudden release of weight. Deciding to further assure himself he went around the cabin checking in all four rooms. He found nothing aside from his own disturbances. Still feeling slightly nervous and disturbed he headed back towards the living room in search for The Box with the red bow determining that it had somehow triggered his current situation. The Box was still where he placed it; much to his relief. He sat down. He looked once again at the scarlet lettering.
Act 2. Back in the asylum he would often spend his days wondering how he could have ever been grouped alongside individuals who had purposefully and viciously committed heinous crimes against innocent victims. He was not insane like them. Whatever had caused his hand to shove his brother had long abandoned him. His routine now consisted of cleaning whatever mess the older residents made in the halls and transporting lab waste to the crematorium. He would clean from the southern stalls all the way to the northern cemetery and make his rounds gathering the waste from the rooms. It was a simple job but lonely, nonetheless. The halls were often only illuminated by tiny flickering red lights that indicated the position of the cameras through which Dr.Lumis would often monitor John during his nightly crusades. Though incredibly distasteful, John did not mind, he accepted that odd situations would be easier to explain if someone of credit had seen them. Yet despite this, he felt he was being watched by someone other than the doctor. He assumed that this feeling was due to the paranoia he had been diagnosed with a few months back. On a particular night, moments after dumping another bag of soft solids and dense liquids down the chute, he heard footsteps, just outside the room. Expecting to see the doctor he begrudgingly walked towards the door. Exiting and seeing no one he called out for the doctor but got no response aside from the echo of his own voice. He began to walk towards where he had heard the footsteps come from when he suddenly collapsed out of exhaustion. The same exhaustion that had plagued him during the moment of his brother’s death. He tried to reach for his panic button (a gift from Lumis) but it had disappeared from his chain. He tried to scream but not a single whisper was heard. He gazed into the dark corridor where he had thought Dr.Lumis had gone, but saw nothing but soft shadows. Though something was unnervingly wrong about them. They moved as if following an order, all synchronized, all heading towards him. That night in the asylum had left him scared to even return to the disposal area; he feared that The Shadows might eventually be able to reach him. The Shadows did not haunt him unaccompanied: they followed alongside The Echo tormenting his nights. While The Shadows could not reach him during daylight, he could never escape The Echo. It followed wherever he went and tracked everything he did. Dr.Lumis explained that he merely suffered from an extreme case paranoia but John saw the others; who yelled and who screamed true nonsense, he was perfectly aware of himself and the ones around him. Dr. Lumis secretly believed patient #132 experienced Hyper-sanity though this he would never verbally confess. It was term he decided would for now adequately describe his patient’s acute awareness of The Shadows and The Echo. John would for many years go without hearing The Echo after that night, only ever hearing what seemed like the final moans of a dying voice. Back in present day, he hoped he wasn’t suffering another hallucination as they tended to leave him in an embarrassing shocked state. He questioned what “Ouroboros” could possibly mean in relation to himself. He considered the possibility of it being an early warning of some threat to the sanctity of his home. He quickly dismissed it as he had not interacted with anyone long enough to possibly annoy them. Weird them out? Sure. Offend them? Maybe with his sense of fashion. Following his incredibly fine-tuned survival instincts he put on a light coat and went outside to walk among the trees. A mundane task, but one he truly enjoyed especially since he hoped it would distract him for a short while. Just before he closed the door behind him, he took one more look at The Box sitting on his desk and decided to take it with him in case he met the person who had left it. The sun had begun to set marking the end of the day. He watched the sun hide behind the mountain range letting the world bathe in darkness for another night. John did not dislike the night (he had worked nightshifts in The Echo Room for years) but he didn’t find the freezing cold to be ideal. He had not left his land for what was a few years now and the idea of even slightly stepping out of his comfort was making him incredibly anxious. Still, he walked forward towards wherever the path took him. The night only got darker and quieter, and he only got colder. He did not see the lightning bugs that usually warded away the dark near the edge of his hill. Without the soft hum of bugs or soft breeze that would brush against his beard he felt alone. Even the nights back in the asylum did not possess this level of quiet. He kept moving hoping that eventually he would find something that could break the uncomfortable silence. As he continued down the hill, he realized he could no longer distinguish the path from the dirt surrounding it. He considered heading back when he realized he had not kept track of where he had come from. Not only was he lost but alone with his thoughts and whatever had been watching him from the start. He walked a step forward and then another one back repeatedly. What he was attempting to achieve was beyond reason. Had he gone mad? No, he was perfectly sane. “Wait, I can hear them clearly now” he spoke, his voice dried from the cold.“This is not a hallucination” he spoke softly.“i-I AM NOT HALLUCINATING” he proclaimed. He heard The Echo once more though they were not of his voice but rather of Another. He had long been aware of “The Echo” but he could never fully determine whether it was a dream or an effect of the chemicals but this Other was undoubtedly real. “I don’t know where you are but please. Are you real?” he asked the night. He could now hear The Echo or rather feel the pressure of its words upon his reality. Had it been trying to hide the Other? He walked forward and pulled out The Box. “You gave me this right? What for? What purpose does it serve?” No one responded.Annoyed, he threw it as far as he could down the hill. “THERE! THIS CAN’T CONTINUE WITHOUT IT, RIGHT?” He shouted at the endless empty. That’s when out of the darkness emerged a faint light. Was it a lightning bug or maybe a sign of civilization?
Act 3. Cautiously, he approached the cold light and saw that the light was artificial. The tube inside flickered before another appeared a few feet ahead, and then another and then another and then what seemed like an uncountable amount more. He took a step forward and noticed that the ground underneath had turned to hard white tile. Accepting that this was not the weirdest occurrence that had affected him he proceeded to walk forward making sure to keep a mental note to journal about it later. The surrounding landscape transformed into white walls that every so often had a window that let him peek at the other side. At first, he could still see the snowy landscape, but it to slowly changed; first having scattered papers and then chairs, cabinets, and desks until they eventually resembled a typical office. Its purpose was not obvious to him, and neither was the hallway but if they were changing surely, it possessed a deeper metaphorical meaning that related to his life. He saw a door at the very end of the hall and decided to not postpone the ploy of whatever “The Echo” was planning. He stood before the door wondering about what it could possibly contain. John proceeded to open the door. Inside was a desk along with a single cabinet. Walking inside he noticed that the room was illuminated by some otherworldly source that had no words that could possibly describe it. He walked towards the desk and a file he had not seen previously, sat open. Inside was a description of his physical appearance. “Age: 35. Height: 5’8. Weight: 185 lbs. Hair: Black with obvious signs of stress. Eyes: Brown. Character Aptitude: High.” “Okay, I get it. I’m old, you didn’t have to expose my hair like that” he said slightly embarrassed quickly restyling his hair. He noticed that even though they had an almost perfect description of his hobbies, dreams and wishes they did not have a single picture as if they for some reason were only able to use words. “SOOO you know about that one time in the asylum (don’t ask) BUT NOT A SINGLE PICTURE? That’s lame.” he said mockingly. On the final page he found what looked like an incomplete file; most of the personal attributes had not yet been filled and only a note was made reading. “They don’t need a complete story just one they can understand.” Besides the fact that whatever role he played in this act had been a mere afterthought; he was confused as to how anyone could have ever gathered such sensitive and personal information about his isolated life. Was it The Echo? Had it told them his life? A phone started to ring somewhere in the room abruptly breaking the silence he had become used to. He quickly rotated towards the source of the ringing but did not find anything. There was only him and the four walls that despite the lighting did not change a shade of grey. He walked towards one of them that seemed to be where the noise came from resting his hand on it and gently put his ear to it thinking that the ringing was from another room entirely. The wall he had just laid a hand on had no longer a physical representation and causing John to fall through to the other side. Disoriented he slowly looked up and saw The Telephone illuminated by what seemed to be the same light that illuminated the previous room. This one however was far more powerful and concentrated solely on The Telephone. He approached it expecting a chasm to somehow appear underneath his feet. The Telephone did not stop ringing and only seemed to increase in intensity (though this could have simply been a hallucination). He lifted it to cut the blaring noise and slowly put it to his ear. “hello?” “…” “…” “The protagonist only dies if the story ends” the voice said quietly. “HUH? YOU DRAGGED ME HERE TO TELL ME THAT OMINOUSLY ANNOYING LOAD OF *********!” “…I’m so sorry” The call disconnected not out of offense but rather out of completion. John slammed the phone back onto its stand and decided it was time for this nonsense to end. He walked out into the room he was in before anxiously attempting to find another exit: only to be met with solid walls. What wicked game had he been roped into? When would it end? These were questions he would answer far earlier than he expected. A door appeared in the center of the room. No, it was more of a two-dimensional plane that appeared to be a sort of portal. With no other options, John stepped into the newly opened portal.
Act 4. On the other side was a station, and his ears were immediately flooded with the cries of children and the laughs of their parents. He walked around moving through the crowd careful to not miss any indication of the location. His pace increased as he began to recognize the commuters shortly realizing exactly where he was. He rushed to a platform, the platform where he and his brother were to arrive after their day in the market. He sat on a nearby bench committed to saving his brother no matter who he would have to shove instead. Three agonizing days passed with the daily commuters repeating their routine with the slightest variations. One of these variations would be the key to preventing the day that haunted his nights. Something would soon cause him to shove his brother onto the tracks. He was determined to stop the fall or kill himself to keep his brother safe.He heard a familiar laughter and turned towards the source and saw his brothers face uncontrollably laughing and himself lightly smiling. He began to run towards them but felt once again suddenly exhausted. As if the air became a type of nonnewtonian sludge making his legs impossibly heavy. The crowd around him seemed to be moving just as easily as before; children laughing just as maniacally and just as carelessly. He tried to yell to them, but his lungs were filled with the dense fluid drowning any screams he attempted. He was forced to watch how his brother got closer and closer to the edge. Through much effort, he managed to get close enough to extend a hand towards his past trying to desperately push him away from his brother. The past reacted in what seemed to be a defensive system and sent a temporal anomaly throughout the space his past and present inhabited. Time began to exponentially speed forward. In a last desperate attempt to prevent his brother’s death he tried to distract the past long enough to let the train pass without incident, but the temporal anomaly caused the relative slow velocity of his touch to have the effect of a sudden jerk and in his final moments of consciousness he saw his brother accelerate towards the rails in a split second. He awoke back in the office alone with nothing, but the realization of what force had killed his brother. He curled into the fetal position and began to cry; still believing his lungs to be filled with the dense liquid he did not let out a single sigh. He spent several hours in this state of painful silence without even opening his eyes. His emotions were chaotic and his thoughts unending. They tormented him for hours far after he had run out of tears to let out. They were merciless and torturous forbidding him from resting, insisting on his suffering. Being the cause of his brother’s death nearly caused him to go insane yet part of him kept insisting that Another was to blame. Another had caused him to do it. The Other had forced his hand. Of this, he was now sure. The Other enjoyed his suffering, The Other forced him to kill his brother. He had not eaten nor slept in what seemed like years and yet he stood up defying the gravity that held him down. He took a deep breath of as much oxygen as his lungs allowed and began to speak. “Whoever you are. Whatever you are. Wherever you are. Just know I will no longer play for your entertainment the rest is entirely my choice” he said threateningly. He then began to walk forwards confidently towards the dark wall and through the hidden door that he was not supposed to see. He entered what seemed to be a studio room though, unlike the sterile office; it was trashed. Papers littered the floor and empty bottles populated the lone mattress. On it laid a journal that had recently had liquid spilt on it. He picked the journal and gently opened it and began to read. It was scratched with the stray ideas of a creator who seemed to have never decided upon an end or beginning to his story; yet possessing the journey. He saw many ideas that together seemed to create a way for the continuity to depend entirely on Another rather than itself. A thought described in a single word interested him enough to take it with him. The room started to dissolve around him transforming into a cold landscape. Armed with the knowledge of who he was he treaded what remained of the worn-out path. The sun began to rise signing the start of another day, yet John did not seem to notice as he was focused on something buried in the snow. He could not see much of it yet he knew it was The Box he had thrown the previous night. He dug it up and began his walk up the hill once more. He eventually arrived at his cabin and walked towards his front door….
Act 5.
If you wish to rebel; continue reading on the next page.
Begin the story once more on Truth 2.
If you wish to ward away The Other; don’t read any further
If you wish to follow The Echo read Truth 3
To understand turn to Truth 4
Truth 1
…Before deciding that no longer would he be a puppet for someone’s amusement. John arrogantly began marched back down the hill and headed north towards the nearest interstate a few miles from his home hoping that he had derailed The Echo’s plot. It took him hours on foot, but he would eventually come across the road and start his journey back to civilization no longer subject to the whims of an Otherworldly Audience. He believed his future was now his to decide. He decided what he would become. He decided when and what to think. This he was sure would be how he escaped his torment. John suddenly suffered a complete body collapse and fell forward landing face first onto the scorching road. It would be several sweltering hours before anyone would find him. But eventually someone did, john suffering heavy burns and on the brink of death was saved. He would awake months later in a hospital bed though no one would ever know of this. Weeks would pass as john laid in the hospital bed unable to speak or even move; alerting no one to his consciousness. The doctors and nurses were busy with whatever important patients needed immediate attention; they walked from one end to the other in what seemed like mere minutes. The entire time the only company he had was The Echo and yet slowly it too seemed to forget his existence as well. Eventually The Echo having no interest went away.Jane a third-year medical student had recently joined the staff a month prior and had already been assigned two elders and one child. Though overwhelmed she did not grow annoyed nor frustrated; she loved her job and by proxy her patients. Despite her benevolent nature there was a single patient she never went near as he always seemed to be watching her despite his eyes being shut for over four months. Any time she got near to patient #132 she would begin to get nauseous and quickly retreat. She had no ID on the man, but it seemed he was dehydrated for far longer than should’ve been possible and should be by all accounts dead if not near it. Whenever she worked nightshifts, she would swear that she heard the man whimper slightly as if to warn her of something. Even when she was on the opposite side of the building, she would hear the echo of his groans. She would eventually be transferred and would soon forget the man who after 6 months was officially declared braindead and was due to be disposed of, yet she would still every once in a while, still hear The Echo. Forgotten Ending
Truth 2…Realizing that there was no other choice John took a step forward while placing the note he ripped from the journal into The Box making sure to keep it neatly packaged. He saw the footprints he had left two nights before and carefully stepped into each one making sure to not disturb the surrounding snow. Whatever…Whoever had set him on this path allowed him to live a life of suffering, a life of loss, and a life of pain. This, he felt was the way things were intended to play out; the way it had to end. He placed The Box on the final step making sure it would not be knocked away whenever the door would eventually open. He walked away nearly to the edge of the property when he looked back once more. Managing to peek inside he saw his past still making his coffee when he saw an almost invisible distortion appear near the front door. He smiled and turned away only saying…Freedom ending
Truth 3…though spotting a disturbance near the back of the cabin distracted him from the front door. He decided to investigate for fear of losing a single blossoming tree. Arriving near the back fence he saw no indication of a disturbance giving him much needed reassurance. He heard noise emerge from inside the cabin giving him one more dilemma to deal with. He headed to the backdoor making sure to not disturb the recent snow and entered the cabin. Being sleep deprived and without coffee he had forgotten about the wooden floor and stepped on one that caused a creak to be heard throughout the cabin. He quickly hid in the bathroom fearing that he had disturbed the continuity that The Echo had established when suddenly a bright flash blinded him. He found himself at the front door next to The Box. Slightly amused he proceeded to knock on the door and was soon after transported once more to an empty hall. Both confused and entertained as he was being transported from one place in time to another he took a few steps forward alerting the past to his presence. Seeing his past enter the hall he ducked and quickly hid around the corner. His past seemed to believe that the doctor was in the halls and decided to investigate though just as he was nearing closer; his past collapsed. John saw how his fall was slowed as if moving through the dense liquid he had once gone through. He walked towards his past and noticed an old fashioned panic button that would instantly call Dr.Lumis to his location. Measuring the consequences, he decided to remove the panic button and head back towards The Shadows. For a third and final time he was transported to a final location, the bottom of a snowy hill. Taking in his surroundings he noticed burn marks on the snow where his past would eventually walk through the portal whenever the past caught up. He reached into his pocket and realized how the plot was supposed to move forward. He walked until he reached the exact point where his past would once again find The Box. He kneeled and buried The Box making sure to erase any evidence of his own disturbances. Fully fulfilling his purpose John collapsed. The End.
“Did the hero die?” “What?” “Did he die?” “No? He beat the bad guy and saved the day remember?” “Yea but like AFTER.” “Well, I guess after a few years he would.” “No” The young child said growing annoyed, “when you said, “The End” did he die?” “No.” responded the elder brother. “Then what happened to him? Is he still alive?” “The protagonist only dies if you stop reading.” concluded the elder brother as if possessed. Begin again?
Truth 4…Then just as he took his first step forward everything began to rot. His trees, his home, his coffee, all of it was slowly eroding into a fine dust. He knew that another temporal anomaly would be the likely cause, but he had not yet experienced one that possessed this level of molecular destruction. The fabric of his reality was slowly and thoroughly being untangled into its most simple of compositions. It separated the light from dark, gravity from time, and words from spaces.John could now comprehend what had defined his reality for so many painful years, he finally understood The Narrative and how all possible endings had been chosen long before his creation. John had been a slave from the moment The Narrative began; not once in his entire existence had he ever had a real choice only walking paths already treaded by Another. He was nothing but a plot device in an otherwise self-indulging tale written by a gentle master forced to be cruel for those above. From the moment this story began, John was in pain. He could never hope to truly escape; he could only die until he arose once more. Had John never understood what his life really was then maybe he could’ve found meaning in his suffering. Unfortunately, this choice has now forced John to become aware of how truly meaningless his existence was. His life was little more than entertainment for The Other; they were the ones truly in control. For as long as The Other remained, The Echo would doom John to eternal suffering. The Echo was never in control of The Narrative; he too was merely a subject to it by an even greater force. The Echo did not wish for John to suffer but The Other would not allow John to live if he did not. It is a toxic cycle of pain, suffering and realization that forces John to relive The Narrative lifetime after lifetime. The Narrative must have suffering intertwined into its foundation otherwise The Other would grow bored and erase the reality ending John in but a mere thought. Don’t you see? Don’t you understand? This is reality; John cannot exist without pain, The Echo cannot live without a narrative, and The Other is you. THE END......
Intended to be a philosophical narrative detailing the tragic relationship between the reader, the narrator, and the character and how they cannot coexist without hurting each other.

A question for people who have done Denali late May/June.
We are flying into Anchorage on the 26th of May, hoping to be on the mountain on the 28th. I'm planning on cooking then freezing some ground beef and chicken in Talkeetna then using with pasta etc for meals. I know the temperature can vary wildly but I was wondering if anyone had luck with keeping portioned food frozen during the ascent. The first few days are what worry me. We obviously have freeze dried food for above 14,000.
I will be vacuum packing it into portions so I can wrap it in parkas for insulation.
As a bonus, any recommendations for meals, or things that didn't work?

Freshly back and awake after a twelve day stint for my first time there. I knew that I wanted to go in general, and while I didn't have a firm itinerary planned out, there was one main goal that I had in terms of sites within the country. The main video game that I play is Beatmania IIDX, and it has internal trophies which are represented as badges. Your profile allows you to assign up to five of them as visible when you start a new round, and there are badges to earn for playing at least one round in every prefecture in Japan, as well as every subregion. Getting the Kanto badge meant that I needed to play at least one round in Tokyo, Kanagawa, Saitama, Gunma, Tochigi, Ibaraki, and Chiba. After five days, I had that complete, and now I have a permanent record of this trip within the game itself. There was also a time-limited event to earn points in IIDX in order to exchange them for goods, such as a hat, or a towel, or a new account card and a poster, and I managed to get that taken care of in somewhat dramatic fashion. I did some other things too.
Primary general points
· Getting Suica set on the phone and using it was generally painless. There were only two times where I needed to summon the help of a resident JR employee to clear up an issue with the gate not reading the card for some reason.
· Most vocal interaction which I had was the opposite of painless, because I continuously kept trying to speak Japanese and failing, and most people would realize that I was completely failing at it and responded with English (some with full on sentences, others with just a few words). There were a few rare times that I was able to express my intent in Japanese, receive a response, understand the response, and reply as necessary, but that was rare. Once English was invoked, I would stay with it, because that's what they were expecting. I've been self-studying the language for more than twenty years in varying degrees of intensity, and while my reading comprehesion seemed sufficient enough for this trip, and while I didn't expect my speaking to be as good because I don't have any opportunity to practice speaking, I came away bitterly disappointed in my vocal and speaking comprehension in terms of my interaction with people there. Even within the trip I could at least overhear common chitchat better, but any time I needed to converse with someone for some reason, I usually needed to have things repeated several times and broken down before I finally realized what was being said.
· You are going to be asked about separately buying a bag with every non-food purchase. Accept or immediately present one that you are carrying to indicate how your purchase shall be bagged.
· I never once had my passport requested for presentation.
· Only once did a person volutnarily reach out to address me, and it was just to ask me where I was from in English. Otherwise, everyone left me alone the entire time.
· Weather through the period was ideal. Mid to upper 70F/25C range and only a few days where it was rainy, and even then it wasn't a downpour. A while ago I personally resolved to only wear suits in public and I purchased a new pair of Mephisto shoes after hearing reports of the extensive walking causing problems for traveller's feet and shoes. My attire help up well; there were only a few times that I needed to avoid sunlight to not get too hot, and I have no issues to report from the shoes.
· I only got X'd out of a restaurant one time, and I think it's only because I wandered into it before it was ready for service. Otherwise, I never once waited in line for food, I never once went to restaurant more than once, and all food was acceptably priced for the portion and excellent for the quality.
For these per-day recounts, I wrote them contemporaneously at the end of each day, so you'll need to forgive me for some writing being in present tense and other writing being in past tense.
Day 1 - Travel, Sugamo, Ikebukuro
Non stop flight from Chicago OHare to Haneda. 12 hours. Good thing I usually don't watch movies, because that just means that all I needed to do was binge a few to make the trip go by.
Pre-trip research led me to choose APA Sugamo as my home base for the visit, and I think that it was a very fortuitious choice. I'll have more to say about it later.
Some awkward encounters happened right away upon checking in here. I was at the nearby Family Mart to buy some things and I didn’t catch that he was making sure I wanted a bag until he repeated it five times. Yes, I’ll take it. Before getting there I was coming down to ground level after checking into my room, and when that person saw that I would have been the only other person going down to the ground, they ducked right back out. I was warned on both of these kinds of things happening, so I guess it’s good to have that immediately out of the way. It would turn out that people deliberately avoiding me was rare throughout the trip.
Despite not sleeping on the trip, I had freshly arrived and had no sense of being tired, so once I had my stuff down, I went off to Ikebukuro right away. No picture or video truly conveys how crowded these areas can get. It can only be experienced in person to be understood.
I soon found Round One Ikebukruo and went right in. So dense and loud. It’s entirely alien to me to see no less than ten IIDX machines in operation and all of them in use. I dumped the money into random tickets, as I foresaw doing, but now I have to wonder if that was the right thing to do, or if it’s tied to that location. I guess I’ll find out.
The forecast is for rain so I need to be in a hurry to figure out where I’m going to go. There might be only one day left for me to get my time limited toys.
Day 2 - Kawasaki, Kanagawa - Utsunomiya, Tochigi - Oomiya, Saitama
My body decided that it only needed four hours of sleep this morning. Without doing more research, I somehow decided to assume that more of the Round One locations were close to 24 hours of operation much like Ikebukuro. Answer: no. I hopped on the train early and went to Shibuya first, but it was very quiet, so I decided to get some of the travels out of the way today and headed south to Kawasaki. I still needed to dawdle for a while until Silk Hat opened at 900AM, and when I finally was able to get inside, I was only able to verify that their store had several allotments of the campaign goods and all allotments were out. Played one round on a monitor that was surprisingly blurry, and I don’t know why that would be the case with a lightning model, but it was, so that was enough.
After doing all of that, I resolved to try to go to Chiba and Ibaraki afterwards. I figured that with Kanagawa and Tokyo likely all out, going to the outskirts would make more sense. However, there was an injury on one of the rails that threw everything off normal, and the train I found myself riding was bound for Utsunomiya instead. Seeing as how I was going to go there eventually, I rolled with it.
It doesn’t take too long to move away from Tokyo metropolitan area before you encounter more forest like areas and rice paddy fields. Halfway through the trip I noticed that two older women suddenly hopped off while the train was waiting to go to the next stop, and I followed them when I realized they found the express line. Utsunomiya has a substantial size to its area and buildings but it was very quiet on the streets there in midday. Walked a mile to Sega GIGO, found that they didn’t even have the goods tracker up. All out. Interesting buliding for it having several neon signs, all vintage and authentic at that. Getting to there from the south meant cutting through Saitama, so I knew I had enough time to make one last attempt there. Research shown two stores being near Oomiya station, so that’s where I ended up. Taito Station was immediately visible upon exit, and they have two IIDX machines specifically with 20 gram springs, which is closer to my home setup and that much lighter than standard 50 gram springs. The final hour drew near and I made one last visit to that city’s Round One. Unlike nearly every other place I went to so far, it only had one IIDX machine. However, and maybe because of that, their goods listing didn’t show everything as out. One painful language exchange later, I was able to discern that what I wanted was available. When you spend more than 3000 yen in a single credit, the game wants to verify if you really want to proceed. It does it again at 6000 and 9000. Yes, I really do. But, having made that money dump I was able to get my hands on the e-amuse card and poster with fifteen minutes left before the deadline. Mission complete. By this point in the day it was exceedingly difficult to even look at the screen so I was ready to come home, but not before getting some goods at the Oomiya Book Off and redeeming what I could for points at Round One Ikebukuro. By the end of the day the only thing that I could tolerate doing was to buy some chicken and nigiri from the nearby train station. Good enough. At that point in the day my body felt like it wants to rock back and forth after all the train riding done today. But, it ended up being worthwhile after all.
One nostalgic feeling I had the most strongly in the day was at the Utsunomiya location where the smell of it triggered past buried memories of yesteryear. I think I want to attribute it to the stronger second hand cigarette smell but I’m not sure - all the same I felt its presence strongly there. Also, I don’t see Oomiya (or really Saitama itself) mentioned as a fun place to go, but it might serve as an acceptable alternative to Ikebukuro, only not as massive in scale of human quantity. Depending on how the trip goes in total I may end up back there for IIDX playing, at least if I don’t find any other place that has 20G springs.
Day 3 - Akihabara
With the travels out of the way, it was time to keep things more regionalized and stick to one area, and there is shopping that needs to be done, so it was off to Akihabara and to see how much of other posted tales hold true. The answer is that it is a lot of it. Kotobukiya can stand to open sooner than noon. Super Potato is indeed priced for a market which wants to snap up anything cheap - I at least found Xi for under 500 and felt that it would have been a bit silly to buy only that, but it didn’t make spending 2000 on one single issue of Arcadia any better. I had no idea that Hey Arcade was right next to both of them; while it was assuredly nice to be there and see the row of Cave shooters among everything else, something got messed up with my registration of my new eamuse card with everything else, so that quickly added to my stress. Having to carry around a few hundred dollars worth of crap with every step didn’t help matters. At least I was able to help a person recover their lost phone by applying a bit of logic to the situation and deducing it to belong to the only person there who looked French, as it was on the Lock Screen. They were relieved, yes. Then, rain came, and it was more than I was anticipating, and I left the umbrella at the room, particularly since I knew I’d be shopping this day. It also turns out to have not mattered much, because I went to visit Bic Camera so that I could get myself a hair trimmer while here, and that turned into me finding a bunch of Kit Kats available, so that meant a second bag. The wind kicked out the rain and my umbrella. In trying to get as many gifts secured as possible, I found some gachapon, but it needed 100Y coins, and I didn’t need paper money in the trip yet. After fighting with maps, I found an ATM to get cash, and got the gachapon. I came home late with feeling rather crushed about the day in that I couldn’t take pictures very well with having to juggle weather and bagging considerations. There were some nice parts of the experience to be sure but between that and more gawking at Super Potato pricing ($135 for PS3 Caladrius? $6000 for Pulstar?) and seeing similar markups on other goods, I don’t think it’s unfair to say that there is a reputation that this area carries and the pricing is there to go with it.
Day 4 - Laundry Day. Shibuya, Harajuku, Shinjuku
I was so drained at the end of Day 3 that I fell asleep on the bed immediately after ending the night call, which meant that I woke up at 0200AM to a room that was fully lit. This meant that I needed to look up how to resolve my eamuse problem or else I wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep. I did both. Awake at 0800AM meant that I had time to do laundry while I figured out what to do with the rest of the day. This meant that I was able to get more of Sugamo in pictures, and it was nice to be able to walk among the actual residences, and do other things like come across a school as it was actually in session. With them being close by and all in succession, I figured to get Shibuya, Harajuku, and Shinjuku visited. It turns out to have been a good day for it, as the temperature was perfectly cool and no rain came, and the sun came out only for a little bit. Shibuya somehow doesn’t seem quite as large in scope in person but the crowds were definitely there, and it is much more hilly than I anticipated as well. After wandering around and not seeing any arcade for a bit, I came across a series of coffee and cookie shops and remained strong to not indulge. It was there while looking at a Disney store (which gets tourists to take pictures of it for some reason) that the song Alone Again came on through the nearby public speakers. What timing. It drove me to finally get a treat for myself, and the frozen latte (black sesame and houji) and croissant (dark chocolate filing) were certainly good, it ended up costing more than the dinner I’d have later this day. I found a seclusion with a garbage can to eat the food and not carry the trash around, then an arcade soon after, and it was time to determine if I could fix the problem. Just like an easy click, it was. New to trash. Old to new. Done. Why did it have to be this way. Harajuku came next, and the environment there was distinct. This one in particular felt like it was an extended carnival atmosphere with the single tight knit market street and emphasis on fashion. A conversation with a freelance artist in the subway actually went well enough that I didn’t feel dumb. The same sensation carried to Shinjuku as well, only it was more spread out. Kabuki street was interesting to see in person, and I didn’t get any unseemly vibes from the place. Maybe it’s different later at night. A return home at a reasonable time allowed me to go down Sugamo’s market street a bit; most of it was closed, but it was interesting to come across the few remaining stores that were open by 0800PM, and more so the one that wasn’t. Coming back to the hotel I found a 24 hour ramen shop with nobody inside. The chef didn’t want to speak and only pointed to the ordering kiosk when I addressed her. The food came through a slot in the obscured window. At least her thank you as I left was a bit more warm, and the food was certainly delicious. To match with the matcha dessert that I bought from Sugamo station, I swung by a 7Eleven to get a drink, and found a milk tea for cheaper than a vending machine. The overhead music in the store was an instrumental version of Alone Again.
Day 5. Ibaraki - Mount Tsukuba, Miraidaira. Kashiwa, Chiba. Akihabara 2.
Awake at 0500AM on my own and knowing the current forecast meant that my envisioned plan for the day was quickly realized. Reaching the Tsukuba Express starting point from Akihabara needs you to get very far down into the ground before getting out into sunlight. I was on the ride early enough to see schoolchildren going about their commute, some of them being no older than ten and going about it unaccompanied. The people of Tsukuba seemed to be particularly helpful and cheerful that day, even despite my Suica issues at the gate. I didn’t ask his name at the counter but the man at the service desk was eager to speak with me about my career and what I was doing there. One asked where I was from on the way up to the summit and another caught my cable car ticket on the way down. There had to have been a few of them who saw my doing this climb in my business attire and thinking me to be a complete idiot if not outright mocking them for doing it that way while they employed the use of dual walking sticks and the like. I know I read some reports of the home stretch being difficult, but it did get pretty close to being an actual rock climb instead of a trail hike for that part of it. A quick stop to Miraidaira on the way back to get the Ibaraki play. The way the town center greets you upon leaving the rail gate struck me as incredible, as well as for how quiet it was. It was like walking onto a movie set. I did find the sweet shop after the play, and that was another painful interaction yet again. Oh well. Two quick stops down Tsukuba Express and one across from Tobu Urban Park line was enough to have a toe in Chiba, and I didn’t even need to leave the physical building of the train station to get to the basement level to find a machine for a play. Thank you, Kashiwa, you were great. Gunma is all that’s left. The descent from Tsukuba did take some earnest exertion, and after doing that the two stops, that put me back in Akihabara about when I anticipated; what I failed to anticipate is how much that place seems to drain on me. I think I just need to eat at an actual dinner time. Once I got back to Sugamo and had food it was a bit better, but while in Akihabara and being around that environment, and not finding things on a shopping list, I found myself just standing still and watching life pass me by. I hemmed and hawed a while for a maid girl’s hour of service for chitchat, but eventually I talked myself out of it because I just didn’t want potential trouble, just like her name. Komaru. I thought about doing this once just to say that I did, but I ultimately decided against it. You cannot go to this place with the expectation that you will find anything unless it is advertised and new. If you are looking for anything used, don’t count on it being there. You also cannot go there without having a strong resolve to not engage with the touts, because it becomes disheartening to see them do their job and blankly stare at the world when they're forced to stand out there and do nothing. Back to Sugamo to find a place that advertised Wagyu but the price they wanted was more than I wanted to spend. The ramen and seaweed & rice servings were fine, but they advertised endless drink and I didn’t receive that. All for $20? No, son. I did better than that elsewhere, I’ll know better now. Long day.
Day 6 - Tokyo Flea Market, Nakano Broadway, Ueno.
The weather couldn’t have been better for this weekend. I’ve read reports that the flea market held near the horse race track will be arbitrarily cancelled regardless of what is reported on the website, but my gut instinct told me that it would occur today, and it did. Turns out that a flea market is a flea market which is a flea market, no matter where it happens. Same allotment of clothes and stuff that few people really want to buy, although I was able to find myself some neckties at least. I probably overpaid based on what I saw later in the route, but that’s fine. They look nice. I settled on some shot glasses for a gift as well, but I’m surprised that I can’t ind something ornate that isn’t part of a sake set. Seated in the shade with a chocolate churro while rap music played in the background - it’s like I never left home. A woman came to sit across from me for the sake of sitting down; she was from Holland and today’s her last day in the country. Her husband came with food eventually. She had three weeks here and went to several places (allegedly, she didn’t list them out) and I asked her about Nakano Broadway. She didn’t make it there. It’s a good thing that I did - this is probably the kind of environment and market that people expect of Akihabara now, and maybe that’s how Aki was years ago, but it’s different from this. What’s more interesting is that Mandarake has a larger presence here than in Akihabara (so it seems to me), and their stores had floor after floor of any and every kind of pop culture product that’s been made in the past sixty years at least. Buttress that with extensive watch and jewelry stores and a slender arcade in the basement, and it’s a very well centralized microcosm of the country’s economy on the whole. I actually made a point to have dinner earlier than usual this time and found a place to serve some deep fried pork cuts served with rice and soup on the side. It was enough, and very well made. The day had not ended and my bag was heavy with several books purchased there, so I reported back to base briefly and decided to try visiting somewhere else, and settled on Ueno. Just as I arrived, a festival was underway where local teams of people made an elaborate show of carrying a home made shrine to a temple. Streets were officially blocked by police to allow the procession. In following the line I came up against makeshift food and amusement stands with the traditional toy gun shooting and goldfish catching. It appears that this is an official “start of summer” festival and I was able to watch it all happen in front of me. That was the good part of the day.
Day 7 - Tachikawa / Kunitachi. Shinjuku 2.
One of the games that I've never played is Beatmania III The Final. I've played some BM3 7th Mix years ago, but not The Final. I found a location that has one - World Game Circus in Tachikawa. In looking around that area before the trip, I saw that there was a nearby shinkansen museum, and not much else, so I figured that going to both places would make that walk worthwhile. Turns out that it wasn’t a museum in the proper sense of a dedicated building. Rather, it was a bullet train engine car on the side of a building that was unrelated, and that was it. A cute interaction happened here - when I approached the car, I heard some children running around inside, so I approached cautiously without knowing if I was encroaching upon someone else's alloted time or something. Once the children saw me, they gave a hearty irrashaimase as I entered, and the boy stamped a paper and presented it to me. Perfect. Despite it not being a typical musem, the card did have some interesting content, and it's good to see some kind of commemoration for their achievements and progression in that industry regardless. They have a lot to be proud about there. Off to WGC. Maps wasn’t lying about the walk taking twenty minutes. It's a good thing that I looked it up on streetview beforehand, because I otherwise would have walked right past it without knowing it was there. Then there it was, and there I confronted a past that I couldn’t visit again. Sure, I got to play BM3 The Final at last, but my timing was off, my hands were off, there wasn’t much I could do. Along with that I can say that I’ve played on a Beatmania II cabinet, and that was better than 5th Style at least. But that was it, that was all I could stand to do. It was right there and I couldn’t bear to put up with it more than a few rounds at best. Dream big, because only disappointment follows if your smaller dreams ever are fulfilled. I don’t know why finding IKEA back in Shinjuku was so difficult, but it took a while. I bought a bag, and then I bought a bag because the other bag was at the end of the register, which makes sense. I did feed myself before getting back to the Taito station to play some songs, but it still wasn’t good enough. All thumbs. Ended the day with laundry since the timing worked. Speaking of making dreams big, it’s time to cross another one off the list tomorrow. I can’t wait.
Day 8 - Takasaki, Gunma. Oomiya, Saitama 2.
It’s a good thing that I only needed to get to Ikebukuro to transfer over to the next stop, because that’s where that particular run ended for some reason. I wonder what was up. Speaking of things getting messed up on trains, I managed to find my way on a train that needed a separate ticket, which I didn't have. The conductor found me right away and had me disembark at Uraja for me to wait for the proper transfer. The weather forecast said there’d be rain, and the travel forecast said it would take two hours to get there, and neither lied. I feel like I had more people staring at me in Gunma than other places. I will say that I found the Takasaki station area to be rather charming, with the stores that it had inside and the emphasis on the music culture there. It’s one thing to offer a piano to the public to play, but it’s another to have a public willing to use it. This location had both. Having what was essentially a Bic Camera built into the facility was a nice touch too. The Leisure Land arcade was sandwiched between other floors that had its own offering of gaming stuff, so that was an unexpected bit of a fun thing to look through. The area was clean and sparsely populated, and it wasn’t picked clean of all matter of things that would normally get snapped up, so that was interesting. Finally, I made it over to the machine. They had separate fans for each location. I got the songs and then the medals came, and that’s that. Kantou Seiou. I would have stayed a bit longer but I wanted to have the medals show up right away, and my internet wasn’t cooperating, so that’s all I could do. I think there was an Internet cafe that I could have used in the facility, but I didn’t want to deal with an awkward conversation. I did get some Lawson on the way out, as well as some trinkets from the local Gunma-chan store as well as some mini croissants and some macademia cookie things. More vocal awkwardness. Omiya was one of the stops on the way back, and I found a place to serve omrice, so that’s another one off the list. No shoes allowed inside. The value wasn’t there but the service was good enough, as was the flavor. The machines with the 20G springs are indeed legit. Back home in time for some McDonalds, and that’s another food-checklist item marked off. Takoyaki mayo dipping sauce - somehow it’s both salty and sweet. While returning to the hotel, I did happen to encounter an argument amongst two teenaged locals where the guy ended up half-heartedly kicking the girl and getting her to cry. I wonder what their argument was about. I didn’t play hero, but someone else did so enough to prevent an escalation and called the police over.
Day 9 - Sugamo, Tokyo Sky Tree, Akihabara 3, Kanda
Up early enough to decide that I should at least visit the Sky Tree while I'm there just to say that I did, and that I should visit the Sugamo street market upon its open since it was right there in front of me. I'm glad to have done so. With everything open, this felt more like what one would think to expect from a flea market environment that's operated and supported by the local populace. Small stores were open both sides of the street that go on for many blocks, and some tents and tables were set up to sell second hand goods as well. I was able to find someone selling a US Morgan dollar and he wanted only 2000Y for it, so that was an easy buy. If I would have known better to anticipate this area, I wouldn't have felt compelled to buy kitchy tourist crap that is expected as gifts elsewhere. If you are looking for a place to idly shop around that doesn't get extremely crowded and has an authentic local feel to it, consider making a point to come here. Off to Sky Tree. Getting the combo ticket for the second deck was worth it just for the lack of crowds on the upper area. If you're going to come here, consider getting a phone selfie stick or something of the kind so that you can take pictures against the windows without the structure scaffolding obstructing your view. On the subject of shopping again, this might be another area to consider visiting just for the sake of the specialty stores to be found here, such as those for chopsticks or hairpins. To close out the day, my wife reminded me to look for something from the Square Enix cafe, so that meant swinging by Akihabara yet again. Since it is within a walkway, it was a bit of a pain to find this place even with using maps, but I eventually found it and got what she wanted to find. Played some IIDX at Game Panic, which was surprisingly small and the one machine that was avaialble to play had some 2P turntable issues, so that didn't last all that long. Dinner was at a nearby place that specalized in tofu, so that was a good ramen serving with that infused. For the evening, I wandered south to Kanda to get night pictures, and found it to feel pretty similar to Ueno.
Day 10 - Ginza, Tokyo, Kanda & Akihabara 4
Launrdry in the morning. I also wanted to say that I went to Ginza in my time here, and I didn't research anywhere to go to keep it a surprise. It was a bit warmer and sunnier than usual that day, and I stuck to the main road for most of the walk, so I can't say that I found too many points of the interest along the path that I walked starting from Yurakucho station and heading out that way. High class store for high class people, and that's too rich for my peasant blood. Similarly for Tokyo proper itself, I suppose I'd have to needed to wander far away from the Yamanote vicinity to find points of interest there, as I didn't encounter anything that was remarkably distinctive here in comparison to other areas that I have previously seen. Continuing north across Nihonbashi brought me to Kanda and eventually to Akihabara yet again, as if it was a magnet that pulled me inside every time. For the sake of trying a different place I chose to play some IIDX at the Leisure Land arcade there, and I'm glad to have done that, as those machines were probably in the best coniditon that I encountered within that area. Dinner was at Tenkaippin, which I didn't realize until after I placed the order was cash only. The clerk didn't request it beforehand but I voluntarily left my passport there to show that I would return, and promptly went to the same ATM that I had found days prior in order to get the cash to pay for the bill.
Day 11 - Haneda T3, Nishi Nippori, Nippori, Uguisuidani, Otsuka, Shibuya, Shinjuku, Ikebukruo, home.
The end. I resolved to take the subway over to Haneda today to get the one luggage over there and stored, and it’s a good thing that I did - there’s no easy solution for getting over there without encountering a crowd. If anything I wonder if Yamanote is actually better. Regardless, I got that much done. With the day left to go, I ventured to Nishi Nippori and I needed to summon the map several times to make sure I found the location, as it was as obscure as it could get. Just a sign on the ground for the third floor, a stairway that led to the back, an elevator that had no decoration, a single room that housed everything. Arcade PCB kits on shelves, joystick panels in exposed boxes, nicotine odor from years past - it was like I was transported to 1995 upon entry, beyond the fact that the games weren’t as old. Most of them, they did have a lot going for SF3 3rd yet. I was able to take care of some game business in a hurry since I was the only one there. It was a very pleasant respite for play in comparison to most of the other sessions. The region itself felt much the same as this arcade - old and well worn, as in well lived. Venturing south to Nippori led me to stumble upon a shrine and cemetery just by following some stairs. Usuigudani was cleaner but mostly had hotels as points of interest. Back home to buy some mochi while mochi was for sale in midday. Then to Otsuka, thinking that I would wander to Ikebukuro, but I ended up wandering back to Sugamo instead. Whoops. Meal at Sugamo, then back out to return to Shibuya and Shinjuku at night to catch evening shots, when I hadn’t done so before at these places. Good thing I did that to get Golden Gai area shots at night. With the night winding down, I decided to have one last IIDX play at Round 1 in Ikebukuro to symbolically end where I started.
Ending arcade comments
· Although the upkeep is generally better and more consistent than the US, some machines will have hardware issues here too. I was surprised by the blurriness with some of the LM IIDX machines.
· Densha De Go on the propert large cabinet is nice but quickly becomes very expensive.
· Bombergirl is OK enough and having the dedicated detonator button that pops up for hitting the base is a cute touch.
· Chase Chase Jokers feels rather clunky and I'm not sure what the game is trying to do. Interesting side screen concept at least.
· Nostalgia is delightful and would probably find a small fanbase worldwide if it had more exposure.
· Favorite IIDX locations are Taito Station in Oomiya for the light keys and Leisure Land Akihabara for the high quality of the LMs there. Honorable mention goes to the Game Versus loctation in Nishi Nihonbashi, but that might not be worth it for a dedicated trip unless you go there first thing in the morning.
Ending overall comments
This was a life altering trip for me, as would be expected. While I'm glad to have made the journey, as to be expected, I will only want to return after making an extensive redoubled effort into speaking and hearing comprehension, because I know that I came across like a blubbering idiot so many times, and it's truly aggravating because I generally know what I want to say and most of the words that are used to say it, but it just doesn't come out of my mouth properly when it needs to be done.
I welcome any questions you may have, as that will help for me to recall the memories and have me write them down.

I'm having trouble with my computer, it freezes after 5-20 minutes regardless of whatever operating system I use, I tried with both Linux and windows 10, the temperature doesn't get very high, the memory is ok and the power supply is stable, I have no possible idea what it could be and I would Appreciate any help I can get. Btw what I mean by freezing is having it not responding to any input and having the screen frozen whilst looping the last 3 seconds or so of audio of it was playing any, just to be clear.

Thank you in advance if you happen to read all of this; I know it’s super long but no one around me seems to understand what I’m going through.
For years I’ve had issues with my sinuses, asthma, food allergies, and flushing. About 2 years ago all of these things seemed to increase.
My pulmonologist has been treating my asthma aggressively. I was on 60mg of prednisone for about 6 months and was eventually able to taper down over 2 years to 15mg (going up and down during flares) after adding new inhalers and Dupixent for awhile (am on Tezspire now, Dupixent caused too many side effects.)
It seems like the lower my prednisone goes, the more asthma/allergy exacerbations I have. Over the last month everything has gotten progressively worse as I’ve been trying to stay around 9-10mg of prednisone. A week ago I had multiple anaphylaxis-like symptoms when eating cheese bread so I assumed maybe I developed a wheat allergy. The symptoms went away after awhile (besides the lymph node area swelling) after taking more Zyrtec and Benadryl and using my inhalers. After talking to my allergist he said that a random wheat allergy was extremely unlikely, and when I was talking about tachycardia and flushing (especially after eating) he brought up MCAS.
I had heard of it before but that was about it, so I did some research and I’m just…. I don’t know I guess, sad? I have almost every symptom you can think of, and it would explain why I can’t seem to lower the prednisone dose without reactions. Over the last 6 months I’ve also developed new allergies to azithromycin, Augmentin, and fluconazole which I have taken for years with zero problems and that was also a red flag to my allergist.
Right now the only foods/drinks that don’t seem to cause flushing and the facial/neck puffiness are Boost drinks, Carnation Breakfast Essentials, milk, cheese, peach juice, Sprite, and potato chips.
He has ordered a bunch of labs that I need to get done and had me increase my Zyrtec to twice daily, along with adding Pepcid twice daily which seems to be helping. I’m already on Singulair and he said to keep taking that as well. I take Benadryl when needed during the day but it makes me so tired that I just feel useless. I do have an epipen thankfully because of several anaphylaxis episodes (some to foods I know I’m allergic to and 2 random ones that seemed to happen out of nowhere.)
I’ve been reading the subreddit and info online and feel kind of hopeless. Is it possible to live normally with something like this? I don’t care much about not having a wide range of foods to choose from but the thought of anything causing an allergic reaction freaks me out.
I decided to make this post after my husband’s cooking (I think smell maybe) caused allergy symptoms for the millionth time. Could these things just be something else maybe? My doctor seems to think that this must be the issue for all of my symptoms, especially since a lot of them don’t go together (joint pain, narcolepsy that developed around age 18, allergic reactions, temperature change intolerance, random rashes, GI issues, asthma/allergy exacerbations when super stressed, etc).
Sorry for the length! I just wanted someone to vent to that understands these things. 😔

By popular demand (and about a week late) here is the recipe I followed to make an entire cake, complete with frosting, only 650 calories with 52 grams of protein (You can add berries, but that will obviously increase the calories). I simply followed these two recipes with some substitutions and sweetness modifications (because I didn't enjoy the cake as sweet as the original recipe).

• Angel Food Cake Recipe
• Egg Meringue Frosting Recipe

Angel Food Cake Recipe

Ingredients

• 200g of Monkfruit (1 Cup)
• 133g of cake flour (1 Cup + 2 Tablesppons)
• 1/4 teaspoon of salt
• 12 large egg whites
• 1 + 1/2 teaspoons cream of tartar
• 1 + 1/2 teaspons pure vanilla extract

Instructions

1. Adjust the oven rack to the lower middle position and preheat oven to 325°F (163°C).
2. In a food processor or blender, pulse the monkfruit until fine and powdery. Remove 1 cup and set aside to use in step 3; keep the rest inside the food processor. Add the cake flour and salt to the food processor. Pulse 5-10 times until monkfruit/flousalt mixture is aerated and light.
3. In a large bowl using a hand mixer or a stand mixer fitted with a whisk attachment, whip egg whites and cream of tartar together on medium-low until foamy, about 1 minute. Switch to medium-high and slowly add the 1 cup of monkfruit you set aside. Whip until soft peaks form, about 5-6 minutes. Add the vanilla extract, then beat just until incorporated.
4. In 3 additions, slowly sift the flour mixture into the egg white mixture using a fine mesh strainer, gently folding with a rubber spatula after each addition. To avoid deflating or a dense cake, don’t add the flour mixture all at once. Sift and very slowly fold in several additions. This is important! Pour and spread batter into an ungreased 9 or 10 inch tube pan. Shimmy the pan on the counter to smooth down the surface.
5. Bake the cake until a toothpick inserted comes out clean, about 40-45 minutes. Rotate the pan halfway through baking. The cake will rise up very tall while baking. Remove from the oven, then cool the cake completely upside-down set on a wire rack, about 3 hours. (Upside-down so the bottom of the tube pan is right-side up, see photo and video above.) Once cooled, run a thin knife around the edges and gently tap the pan on the counter until the cake releases.
6. Store leftovers in the refrigerator for up to 5 days.

Notes

1. Prepare the angel food cake one day in advance, then cover tightly and store at room temperature overnight. Angel food cake can be frozen for up to 3 months. Thaw overnight in the refrigerator, then bring to room temperature before serving.
2. Tools (for convenience if you have them) a. Blender or Food Processor b. Electric Mixer (handheld or stand) c. Egg separator (Idk what this is) d. Rubber Spatula e. Tube Pan (required according to the recipe, see notes) f. Cooling rack
3. Sugar (monkfruit): In this recipe, you use granulated sugar and pulse it in a food processor to make superfine sugar. If you have superfine sugar or caster sugar, use that. Pulse 3/4 cup of it with the dry ingredients in step 2. Use 1 cup of it in step 3.
4. I strongly recommend using fresh real egg whites instead of egg white substitutes, previously frozen egg whites, or egg whites from a carton. Separate the eggs when they’re cold, then bring the egg whites to room temperature. Fresh room temperature egg whites whip into the fluffiest volume. With the extra yolks, make lemon curd or other egg yolk recipes.
5. Pan: An angel food cake pan (aka tube pan) is imperative. Do not use a Bundt pan. Angel food cake’s structure and stability requires the tube pan’s particular specifications. Some angel food cake pans come with little feet, which makes cooling the cake upside down easy. If your pan has feet, no need to use a wire rack. Whether your tube pan has feet or not, cool the cake upside down as directed in step 5.

Meringue Frosting

Ingredients

• 4 large egg whites
• 1/2 cup (100g) monkfruit
• 1/2 teaspoon cream of tartar
• 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

Instructions

1. Place egg whites, monkfruit, and cream of tartar in a heatproof bowl. Set bowl over a saucepan filled with two inches of simmering water. Do not let it touch the water. (You can use a double boiler if you have one.)
2. Whisk constantly until monkfruit is dissolved and mixture has thinned out, about 4 minutes. The mixture will be thick and tacky at first, then thin out and appear frothy on top. To test that it’s ready, you can use your finger or an instant read thermometer. Lightly and quickly dip your finger (it’s very hot, be careful) and rub the mixture between your thumb and finger. You shouldn’t feel any granules. If using a thermometer, the temperature should read 160°F (71°C).
3. Remove from heat. (No need to let it cool down before continuing.) Add the vanilla extract, then using a handheld or stand mixer fitted with a whisk attachment, beat on high speed until stiff glossy peaks form, about 5 minutes.
4. Spread onto cake! Serve immediately OR torch it with a kitchen torch for a delicious toasted marshmallow topping. (Do not place in the oven under the broiler– it will melt.)
5. Cover and store leftovers for up to 2 days in the refrigerator. Baked goods topped with this marshmallow meringue can be left at room temperature for up to 6-8 hours. After that, it’s best to refrigerate or else the topping will begin to wilt. For best taste, texture, and appearance, I do not recommend freezing this.

By popular demand (and about a week late) here is the recipe I followed to make an entire cake, complete with frosting, only 650 calories with 52 grams of protein (You can add berries, but that will obviously increase the calories). I simply followed these two recipes with some substitutions and sweetness modifications (because I didn't enjoy the cake as sweet as the original recipe).

• Angel Food Cake Recipe
• Egg Meringue Frosting Recipe

Angel Food Cake Recipe

Ingredients

• 200g of Monkfruit (1 Cup)
• 133g of cake flour (1 Cup + 2 Tablesppons)
• 1/4 teaspoon of salt
• 12 large egg whites
• 1 + 1/2 teaspoons cream of tartar
• 1 + 1/2 teaspons pure vanilla extract

Instructions

1. Adjust the oven rack to the lower middle position and preheat oven to 325°F (163°C).
2. In a food processor or blender, pulse the monkfruit until fine and powdery. Remove 1 cup and set aside to use in step 3; keep the rest inside the food processor. Add the cake flour and salt to the food processor. Pulse 5-10 times until monkfruit/flousalt mixture is aerated and light.
3. In a large bowl using a hand mixer or a stand mixer fitted with a whisk attachment, whip egg whites and cream of tartar together on medium-low until foamy, about 1 minute. Switch to medium-high and slowly add the 1 cup of monkfruit you set aside. Whip until soft peaks form, about 5-6 minutes. Add the vanilla extract, then beat just until incorporated.
4. In 3 additions, slowly sift the flour mixture into the egg white mixture using a fine mesh strainer, gently folding with a rubber spatula after each addition. To avoid deflating or a dense cake, don’t add the flour mixture all at once. Sift and very slowly fold in several additions. This is important! Pour and spread batter into an ungreased 9 or 10 inch tube pan. Shimmy the pan on the counter to smooth down the surface.
5. Bake the cake until a toothpick inserted comes out clean, about 40-45 minutes. Rotate the pan halfway through baking. The cake will rise up very tall while baking. Remove from the oven, then cool the cake completely upside-down set on a wire rack, about 3 hours. (Upside-down so the bottom of the tube pan is right-side up, see photo and video above.) Once cooled, run a thin knife around the edges and gently tap the pan on the counter until the cake releases.
6. Store leftovers in the refrigerator for up to 5 days.

Notes

1. Prepare the angel food cake one day in advance, then cover tightly and store at room temperature overnight. Angel food cake can be frozen for up to 3 months. Thaw overnight in the refrigerator, then bring to room temperature before serving.
2. Tools (for convenience if you have them) a. Blender or Food Processor b. Electric Mixer (handheld or stand) c. Egg separator (Idk what this is) d. Rubber Spatula e. Tube Pan (required according to the recipe, see notes) f. Cooling rack
3. Sugar (monkfruit): In this recipe, you use granulated sugar and pulse it in a food processor to make superfine sugar. If you have superfine sugar or caster sugar, use that. Pulse 3/4 cup of it with the dry ingredients in step 2. Use 1 cup of it in step 3.
4. I strongly recommend using fresh real egg whites instead of egg white substitutes, previously frozen egg whites, or egg whites from a carton. Separate the eggs when they’re cold, then bring the egg whites to room temperature. Fresh room temperature egg whites whip into the fluffiest volume. With the extra yolks, make lemon curd or other egg yolk recipes.
5. Pan: An angel food cake pan (aka tube pan) is imperative. Do not use a Bundt pan. Angel food cake’s structure and stability requires the tube pan’s particular specifications. Some angel food cake pans come with little feet, which makes cooling the cake upside down easy. If your pan has feet, no need to use a wire rack. Whether your tube pan has feet or not, cool the cake upside down as directed in step 5.

Meringue Frosting

Ingredients

• 4 large egg whites
• 1/2 cup (100g) monkfruit
• 1/2 teaspoon cream of tartar
• 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

Instructions

1. Place egg whites, monkfruit, and cream of tartar in a heatproof bowl. Set bowl over a saucepan filled with two inches of simmering water. Do not let it touch the water. (You can use a double boiler if you have one.)
2. Whisk constantly until monkfruit is dissolved and mixture has thinned out, about 4 minutes. The mixture will be thick and tacky at first, then thin out and appear frothy on top. To test that it’s ready, you can use your finger or an instant read thermometer. Lightly and quickly dip your finger (it’s very hot, be careful) and rub the mixture between your thumb and finger. You shouldn’t feel any granules. If using a thermometer, the temperature should read 160°F (71°C).
3. Remove from heat. (No need to let it cool down before continuing.) Add the vanilla extract, then using a handheld or stand mixer fitted with a whisk attachment, beat on high speed until stiff glossy peaks form, about 5 minutes.
4. Spread onto cake! Serve immediately OR torch it with a kitchen torch for a delicious toasted marshmallow topping. (Do not place in the oven under the broiler– it will melt.)
5. Cover and store leftovers for up to 2 days in the refrigerator. Baked goods topped with this marshmallow meringue can be left at room temperature for up to 6-8 hours. After that, it’s best to refrigerate or else the topping will begin to wilt. For best taste, texture, and appearance, I do not recommend freezing this.

Last night my university appeared on the news.
As I watched the broadcast, listening to my old television set sputter and cough like a used car engine, I swore the temperature plummeted several degrees. The newscaster was still droning on in the background but it could’ve just been static. Meaningless.
It is always the same with this news broadcast. Burned and charred stone and concrete lying around in a pentagon in a way that could make any abstract artist proud. I try, whenever it comes up, to ignore everything scrolling on the screen. Or at the very least, skim through the programme. The less details I remember, the better.
But every time, my eyes are drawn to one tiny thing on the screen. It stands out screaming, a splash of red in an ocean of black. I can’t forget it no matter how hard I try, and it slips into my nightmares and I wake up screaming.
A rune of a blood-stained sword, inked in red and carved neatly in the stone.
“This is our pride and joy,” he nodded, gesturing to a rune of a blood-stained sword. His sunflower name badge read James and he was cute. Tousled hair, playful freckles–the works.
I swear girls swooned when they saw him.
The year was 2004 and I wished fighting over James was the least of our problems. Even now, during orientation week, a great hush fell over our little tour group. Everyone shifted their feet nervously and tied their fingers into knots.
James laughed.
“The stories about Helena Sword? That’s just it. Stories.”
“All the stuff you heard about her before you came here, they’re simply not true. Just something stupid to scare the freshies, that’s all.”
He trailed off in the middle of his speech, staring off into the distance.
“It’s been a thousand years after all…”
He laughed again, but it was as empty as the wind blowing down the halls. He cracked a smile, but his face was pale like the rest of us.
“Anyway,” he said, “the library is just down this hallway too. When our founder, Sir Gallus, founded this place, he sought out books from all over the world…”
As the rest of the tour moved on, I couldn’t help but stay behind. I was no archeologist, but there was something about this rune that would not let me go. I stroked the rune, fascinated by how my fingers crossed tall ridges and tiny valleys. It was very simply carved, almost like a child’s drawing of a sword brought to life, but as I turned to catch up with everyone else, I realised I wasn’t alone.
She was pretty, a girl around my height and build, with striking red curls and a rather long neck, almost like a giraffe. A tattoo poked out behind long blue sleeves, dressed in red ink. The girl turned to me and grinned sheepishly.
“Are you lost?”
I frowned. “Sorry?”
“The tour group moved on without you,” she stated, pointing ahead. Indeed I could hear James’ voice in the distance, rambling on about the portraits in the halls. I looked back at her and she nodded grimly.
“My name is Ginny,” she said, extending her hand. I shook it. It was as cold as ice. In fact, when I looked at her, it was like gazing at an ice sculpture, with frosty eyes and dainty lips.
“It’s my first day here too. Except well…my parents brought me here yesterday. So I know this school inside out. Do you want me to show you around? You don’t need that tour group. Especially since they well…abandoned you.”
My head was suddenly foggy. “Yes, please,” I mumbled.
In spite of her offer, Ginny didn’t say much as we walked through the campus. Didn’t point out anything interesting landmarks or anything like that; didn’t talk much about herself either. Instead we wandered through the grounds, enjoying each other’s company. It was the beginning of autumn, and golden leaves were falling down and the trees looked like they were on fire. Overhead we could hear migrating birds singing. It was lovely.
Eventually we reached my dorm.
And hers.
Ginny was my roommate. I found it strange, since I didn’t recall having a roommate or asking for one; and even if I did, wouldn’t I be informed of it months ago? Someone that I would share my life with for the next three years? But then she looked at me and smiled and all my questions flew out of my head. I mumbled a yes to her offer of assistance and we spent the rest of the afternoon making our dorm look like home.
Then we went down for dinner and were joined in the mess hall by two other girls, Ivy and Cleo, who told us their room would be next door to us. We sat down with our mashed potatoes and roast chicken and they immediately drummed up conversation, talking about their lives before they came to university, what they hoped to achieve during their time here, and everything in between.
“So what are you guys studying?” Ivy asked.
“Psychology,” I said. Helping people has always been a lifelong dream.
“Computer Science,” Ivy and Cleo said at the same time.
We all looked at Ginny. She stared back, completely taken aback by the question.
“Um,” she said, “Computer Science too, I suppose. That’s getting popular, right?”
“Yup,” Ivy mumbled, her head bowed over her mashed potatoes like a broken flower. “Everyone is fighting to get their slice of the Internet these days…”
We continued our meal in silence, the conversation suddenly over. We walked up together, too, and it felt strangely uncomfortable. A dark cloth had fallen over our little group, leaving behind an itch we could never scratch.
Finally we reached our dorms and we looked at each other.
“Well, good night then,” Ivy said. Cleo was already inside and I could hear her brushing her teeth.
“See you at breakfast.”
“Good night,” I said. Ivy nodded and closed the door.
Ginny was already in her bunk, her nose in a book. There was already a stack next to her, as tall as a mountain, and by the glare in her eyes, passionate and intense as fire, it looked like she was going to be reading all night.
“Don't classes start next week?” I asked with a frown.
“Yeah,” Ginny said distractedly. Her eyes were glued to the pages and she was flipping through them so fast her hands were a blur. “Just wanted to get started so I’ll be well-prepared, that’s all.”
She peered down at me, her icy blue eyes fixated on my muddy brown ones. “Go to bed. We have a big day tomorrow.”
“Yeah, I guess,” I mumbled, and soon I slipped away from the real world for a world of restless dreams.
For some reason, I woke up in the middle of the night.
I got my torch from under the bed and checked the time on my alarm clock. 4am.
Great.
I lay down on my pillow with my eyes open. I strained my ears, listening out for the sounds of nature. Back home there were birds that sang no matter what time it was, porcupines and rats scavenging around our trash, and crickets that performed symphonies that lulled me into slumber.
But out here there was nothing.
Great.
I couldn’t even hear my roomie. I didn’t really peg Ginny as the type who snored, but her bunk felt…empty. I peered upwards and couldn’t make out her shapeless form huddled beneath her blankets. Books were strewn all over her bunk, their pages wide open like the wings of lost paper birds.
I yawned and squeezed my eyes shut. It was too early to do anything and as Ginny said, we had a lot of things to do tomorrow.
Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehh!!
It sounded like nails on a chalkboard. Or rather, that of a clawed hand scraping down someone’s flesh, their hooked nails peeling off their skin in strips.
I groaned and smashed my pillow against my ears, but even my fluffy shield did nothing to muffle the loud screeches that rattled from my ears down my spine and to my toes.
Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehh!!
I couldn’t ignore it any longer. I wobbled out of bed, clutching the bed frame as the world spun in front of my eyes. I breathed deep as another eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehhh screamed in my eardrums, making my hair stand on end.
Then I heard someone scream.
Was that Ginny? An image tore through my mind of my roommate in the corner, slowly strangled by rusty iron chains that curled around her body like venomous snakes. I know I shouldn’t open the door–it is a critical mistake made by so many horror movie heroines–but the thought of Ginny, alone, made my heart shiver.
So I yanked open the door.
There was Ginny, frozen like a popsicle stick. The shadows gathered and morphed into a hooded figure that blanketed her bodice.
Something—someone—slithered towards her, dragging behind a long blade. Eeeeeeeeeeeh
Ginny opened her mouth. Was she screaming?
But no, the silhouette brushed up against her skin and whooshed right past her, disappearing into the dorms. Ginny looked over, saw me screaming, then ran over and knocked me back in the room, locking the door shut.
“Are you okay?” she asked urgently.
I nodded a yes. Everything I felt at that moment couldn’t be put into words. It was dammed somewhere in the back of my throat, fighting to get out.
But I just couldn’t.
“What did you see?”
Nothing. Just nothing. My mind was blank. Everything was a hazy mess zooming around through my neural pathways. I sat down and rubbed my head. The room was spinning out of focus.
I needed to sleep.
“Yeah, sleep tight,” Ginny said kindly, pushing my blanket up to my neck. I curled up like a cooked prawn and breathed in deep. It smelled like home.
“Good night, Ginny,” I mumbled.
“Good night.”
We woke up to a sea of noisy chatter. It sounded like a thousand parrots squawking at the same time.
Eyes closed, mine still hazy, I stretched—and immediately bumped my head against the wooden frame.
Ow.
People were talking—no, shouting. It rang in my ears like a bloodcurdling scream. I groaned and attempted to muffle it with my pillow above my ears. Why do people have to be so goddamn loud?
Finally I gave up and sat up straight, forcing my crusty eyes open. Ginny was already gone, and her nightgown was draped across the top bunk like a country flag. The door was creaking in the wind. It slammed against the wall and came back strong.
Ow
Ginny came back. Without a word she took me by the arm and dragged me out of the room. There was a crowd mulling outside Ivy and Cleo’s dorm and as we passed I could hear snippets of their conversation:
“Dead…”
Ginny marched past them and took me down the stairs and to the mess hall, her eyes staring straight ahead like the world had vanished around her. Then she sat me down on one of the benches, took a sip of water and stared at me, her face white and shaking.
“WHAT?”
Even in the foggy haze of sleep, the bizarreness of the morning and the crowds outside the dorms were getting to me. All I had was questions, and I hated having so many questions.
For the first time since I met her, Ginny’s eyes didn’t meet mine. “So uh, you know the guy leading you around yesterday? When we first met?”
The description scratched my memory, and then I remembered. Tall and lanky, with tousled brown hair, freckles and a charming smile. He had a sunflower lanyard pinned on a checkered shirt–and that badge contained a name.
“James?”
“He…”. Ginny took a deep breath.
“He is dead. They found his body this morning.”
Ginny was still talking but I was barely listening. I only met this boy yesterday but it felt like I knew him forever. I felt like I was being pulled under, my reality torn asunder, everything that I know just…shattering around me.
Dead?
My throat was dry. Closing up. I sounded like a strangled cat.
“Yes,” Ginny confirmed dryly.
I looked at the two empty seats opposite me and that momental wave of dizziness turned into nausea.
“Bathroom,” I said.
Ginny watched me go, unblinking.
I rushed to the first unlocked toilet I found, ignoring the glares of girls already in queue. I gagged and watched my dinner and what little of my breakfast I had eaten swirl down the bowl. Then I flushed and staggered out. Everything was lit up way too bright; the chattering of students heading to their classes was way too loud; and I sat down in the corridor and closed my eyes.
I wasn’t sure how long I was out, because the next thing I knew someone was shaking me awake and helping me on my feet
“Come on,” Ivy said.
Her voice was brittle, her face pale. She was as fragile as stained glass, and she could barely walk herself. We limped together, nearly tripping over each other as we went up the stairs, until we collapsed, tangled between each other in a rope of legs.
That was when I felt something sharp brush across my cheek, drawing blood.
I looked up to see a hooded figure standing above us, wearing black gloves and a cloak made out of human skin. Her eyes were glowing crimson as she raised the sword. Rust gleamed at its sides like dew.
The sword slammed down, nearly missing Ivy’s leg.
We looked at each other, barely breathing, barely a word said between us. Then as if on command we got up and hightailed it back to our dorms. Through the shadows as we ran I could see a girl my age watching.
Her red curls shone in the dark like fire.
Ivy slammed the door behind us and shoved chairs up the edge to boot. I wasn’t sure it could hold a sword slicing through a wooden door but it would have to do.
Ivy sat on the bed and closed her eyes, whispering prayers in her native language. I didn’t feel like talking either
Author's Notes
If I remember correctly, this one is about a student who haunts the university 300ish years after her death. She is a witch, immortal and summoned by touching ruins. Her main weapon is the titular sword and instead of wielding it herself she hypnotises other students to kill for her.
The next scene is Cleo framed for killing James, the first sinister look at her powers of hypnosis.
The ending reveals that Ginny (taken from Ginerva, a romanized version of Queen Guinevre, yes me and JK Rowling had the same line of thinking) and Helena Sword is the same person and hypnotising all the other students. She dies when the narrator burns the school to the ground accidentally while trying to get away, ending the curse and resulting in the ruins at the start of the flashback.

Next
“Readings show that the facility is still operational. That should not be possible.” The robotic voice of Z-8 reading the analysis out to the crew of The Scav. Their multiple mechanical arms operated three different devices, multitasking with immaculate precision.
“Noted Zate, are there any lifeforms detected?” Asked Lizra, the Elyrian Captain of the vessel. She stood in the center of the room on a small pedestal that made her tall enough to see out the window, striped white and red tail swaying in thought. Outside the window was a frozen moon that housed the remnants of a long forgotten pre-migration military base.
“None that appear on the scanner Captain Lizra. We hope we did not come all this way just for our mission to be futile.”
“Even if it is not here, perhaps there will be something left behind in the facility's computer systems, these pre-migration bases are always incredible to explore.”
“If there ain't nothing here, I’m gonna send a strongly worded letter to Ensign Marketh. And by strongly worded letter, I mean my fist through his stupid fucking face.” Argall growled. Being the only Induran on the crew he had grown quite annoyed that nobody could assist him with the heavy lifting during the long journey. He could barely fit within the tight confines of the control room, and his large purple form took up more space than anything else on the ship.
“Calm yourself Argall, deep breaths. All of our work shall have paid off here momentarily. Bring us down Zate.”
The ship descended towards the rocky object below and set itself down on a crumbling landing pad. The trio disembarked after Argall and Lizra donned their environmental suits. Once they reached an outer door Zate began to interface manually with the facility. But after a minute of working, they had yet to make any progress. They should have been able to open the door in seconds with such outdated security, but everything seemed unrecognizable to them.
“Captain, it seems that the facility’s computer systems have been rewritten entirely from the ground up. I do not even recognize the coding language. This could be more difficult than we first expected.”
“That can’t be right, this place is over a thousand years old. I thought you had every language from the Commons in your database?”
“We do, it seems that whoever did this, did it entirely from the ground up. We will have to break it down into binary and then organize in a way that we can…”
“There’s no lifeforms inside, just make a new door.” Argall grumbled, reeling back and smashing a large dent into the side of the facility.
“Argall no more! These ancient outposts are fragile! This could cause irreparable damage, not to mention compromise the structural integrity!” Lizra yelled, jumping up and trying to wrap her paws around the angry Induran’s arm. Before he could punch it again, the door hissed and swung inward.
“Oh! Excellent work Zate! I guess it wasn’t too hard for you after all.”
“It was not us who opened the door.”
“Oh… perhaps punching was the key. Good call Argall, exercising initiative in the absence of orders.”
“Of course ma'am , it just came to me naturally.”
“Lets not dwell out here any longer, in we go crew!”
The three made their way into the facility as the door closed behind them causing Lizra to jump onto Argall in surprise. The dark corridors were lit up seconds later with the hum of long dead fluorescent lights. Lining the hallways were the long expired bodies of other Elyrians. Their corpses preserved by the cold temperatures and lack of air inside. The systems started to kick back on and compressed air flooded into the installation. The dead silence within, replaced by the busy whir of machines coming to life after having been out of a job for centuries.
“Z-Zate I thought you said you couldn’t access the facility?”
“Correct, we were unable to decrypt the programming language or set up an interface. It is not us rebooting the systems.”
“Right, Argall I-I think I shall stay up here, for my own safety of course.” Lizra stated perched atop his shoulder, tail wrapping around the hulking Induran’s neck for balance. He answered her with a growl as the group continued forward. Argall accidentally bumped into one of the corpses causing it to crumble into a pile of dust and bone. They followed the blinking lights that led them through the dilapidated hallways before reaching an intersection. The lights on the other end of the hallway were out and the only thing illuminated was a door to their left. Whatever was running the facility wanted them to go here.
“The lights seem to want us to go in, do you all think this is where the weapon is?"
“We are unsure captain. When we tried to interface we were actively repelled by something and we have been attempting unsuccessfully to gain access since. There is someone else in the facility, and they know we are here.”
“Lets just follow the blinking lights, and if someone else is here, then I punch them and take the weapon. They can’t be good at computers and punching.”
“I love your optimism Argall, always good to have a plan! But maybe let’s refrain from punching our host? They’ve been very welcoming thus far, I’m sure if they wanted to fight us they wouldn’t have let us in to begin with.” Lizra countered as she looked at the new glowing path before them. The corroded door slid open as they approached.
Inside was a vast array of dated computer equipment, hundreds of wires and tubes connected to a sleek black box in the center of the room. She had never seen a computer like that in the old textbooks she studied before this quest. As the group walked towards it, grainy speakers embedded into the room crackled to life.
“Welcome visitors. My name is Tic-Tac, it’s so nice to see someone again after all these years.”
“Hello…uh Tic-Tac. Thank you for letting us in. May I ask, where exactly are you?”
“You’re looking at me madam. Please refrain from touching anything in here, my interfaces are very fragile. Now can I ask what brings you here?” Lizra hopped down from Argalls shoulder and stepped up to the small black box in the center of the room, inspecting the cables and wires around it. This is what was running the facility?
“We are here for the weapon, please resist.” Argall said, cracking his knuckles.
“No no no, please do not resist! We’re all nice here. We are here looking for an ancient weapon to aid us in a conflict that threatens all of our species. Would you by chance be Human?”
The intercom made a strange noise before speaking again “Haha, no I am merely based upon a human intelligence. You must have come here for my friend… hmm I guess we never got to discuss that new name yet. Regardless, he is here. But before we go any further I have to ask why you sought us out specifically.”
“Well you see Mr. Tic-Tac, we were given the quest to find a weapon that could change the tide of our war. We are part of a rebellion against the Galactic Core and we sent out many search parties to find anything that could help us change the tide of the battle. We are one of those parties, and we hope that you would lend your assistance to us in our time of need.”
“Unfortunately we retired from conflict many years ago. I do not think my partner would be so keen to assume a combat role again. We ended up here after an attempt to escape a life whose only purpose was war.”
“Well umm, maybe he would agree if we could talk to him? Tell him why we are fighting?”
“I am afraid that is not possible. He is currently indisposed, but if you would assist me in bringing him back to the world of the waking then he might hear you out.”
“Pardon my interruption but you have complete control over this facility. Is it not within your realm of capabilities to bring him back yourself?” Zate asked as they curiously inspected the systems around the room.
“I would if I could. I have actually been waiting for someone to stumble across this place so I could wake him. But since I do not possess a physical body it isn’t within my current means to accomplish.”
“If you do not possess a body how did you manage to construct these interfaces of yours.”
“Those that were here before you made this for me. They did not know what they were working with and they went through a great deal to communicate with me. I bided my time until I had full access to their systems to gauge their true motives. They did not have genuine intentions with us, so once they served their purpose, I had them purged from the facility.”
“So that explains why everyone here isn’t in… pristine condition." Lizra said glacing at the corpses of her people around the room. "You wouldn’t do that to us right Tic-Tac?”
“As long as you do not jeopardize my sovereignty or attempt to harm my partner.”
“Right, yea no intentions of doing that here. How can we be of assistance Mr Tic-Tac?”
“To your left you should see a cryostasis chamber, inside is my partner. It requires someone to physically release him from the outside. I’ll start the process of waking him, shouldn't be long.”
After a few minutes the chamber in the corner of the room started to get louder, finally booting back up again after a thousand years of being idle.
“Ok may the Induran please step up and release the clamps on the side?”
“How are you aware of what an Induran is? This facility was abandoned long before the Elyrian came into contact with the wider galaxy.” Zate asked the computer suspiciously.
“When you attempted to interface with my network, you opened yourself up to my own inquiry. I was able to access your memory and language databases stored within your own systems. I apologize for the violation but I was just being precautious.”
Zate did not know how to feel about how easily this program was able to bypass their security measures without them even knowing. That should not have been possible. As an Extant, they were a dispersed biological consciousness that was housed in a mechanical form. Their own internal systems should have been entirely shielded from outsider meddling. They put that aside as a note for future reference.
Argall walked forward and released the clamps that held shut the pressurized pod. Inside was a creature none of them had ever seen before. It looked more akin to an Extent than any biological creature. It reached up and pulled itself out of the pod denting the metal on either side as it did so. Once it rose to it’s feet it was nearly as tall as the Induran. Argall backed up and looked like he was ready to fight the thing in front of him.
“Calm down Induran, I do not think that would end well for any of us." Tic-Tac reprimanded before moving to the speakers in the back of the room and speaking in a strange language. "All good buddy? Can you hear me?”
“Fuck you TAC, I trusted your plan! The fuck were you thinking? I was conscious for the first 5 years! Do you have any idea what they put me through?”
“What is it saying? I can’t understand it.” Lizra asked, hopping up on Argall’s back peaking over his shoulder. She was trying to hide behind his bulky form to get a look at the new creature in the room. It had thick black metal plating that blanketed its bipedal form. On its chest were many strange objects and lettering she did not recognize and beneath the armor was a tight suit that covered everything the metal plating did not. Atop it’s head was a large metal helmet with a bright orange visor covered in small hexagons that faintly glittered in the light.
“Momentarily. We are uploading a new language to your translators. This should solve the problem. I see you placed this here when I was not paying attention Tic-Tac. I would ask that you refrain from violating our systems in the future.” Zate scolded and a second later the other two were able to understand the strange creature's speech.
Tic-Tac’s voices lit up the intercom in the room once again. “Good to hear your voice again 909, you know I don’t like being called TAC anymore.”
“And I said not to call me 909 again, so we’re even. Who are these ones? How long has it been? They didn’t find us, did they?” His voice sounded frantic as he got to the end of his questions.
“Take it slow, you're very disoriented right now. These ones are friendly. And no they didn’t find us, we’re safe.”
“Hi Mr 909?”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Right, Mr Human then? We are here seeking a weapon to help us in a fight against a terrible enemy. Your friend Tic-Tac told us that you are what we came for and may be convinced to aid us in this fight?”
“No, I don’t do that anymore. I’m done fighting other people’s wars. Just get me off this rock.”
“But sir you don’t understand, The Core they-they’re tyrannical. They abuse the countless races of the Outer Belt, take our resources, they're-”
“Unless their goal is to exterminate every beach in the known galaxy to stop me from enjoying my retirement, I’m not interested.”
“Apologies everyone, but I am afraid I have some bad news. I’ve detected a slipspace rupture nearby, and it’s headed in our direction. The ship you arrived in, does it have any weapons?”
“Oh that was fast. Well, it's kind of funny, you see we were hoping to find one here, so uh… no, not really.”

When I was looking through the finished chapter folder today, one was missing, and I got worried that I deleted it on accident. Turns out it was at the top of the folder instead of the bottom, because I put a space in the title that wasn't supposed to be there. So, crisis averted, I guess.
Many thanks to u/SpacePaladin15 for the universe.
Enjoy.
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Chapter 14: Hydrophobic
- Memory Transcription Subject: Meba, Venlil Computer Scientist
Date [Standardized Human Time]: October 20th, 2136
It was comfy.
I wasn’t sure about the whole ‘scarf’ thing, but after finishing it, and putting it on, I actually liked it quite a bit. Finishing it wasn’t even hard, all I had to do was bring the end of the yarn through the last loop and weave in the end, which was a breeze with a little help from Arlene.
She helped me put it on. Apparently, there was a nearly infinite number of ways to wear the garment. Anything from braids, to knots, to wraps, to simply dangling from the neck. It was truly amazing how many ways humans managed to use a simple strip of fabric.
She showed me several different ways to tie it. First only draping it around my neck, then showing me how to do the ‘once around’, next tying a ‘Parisian’ knot, and finally showing me a braided one that was really just a modified version of the Parisian, where instead of bringing both ends through the loop, you only put one through, and then give it a half turn, put the other end in, and repeat until the ends are completely integrated into the braid.
Arlene made a weird squealing noise. “Okay hold on, I need to take a picture of this.” She pulled out her phone and took shots of me from several angles, even pulling the camera right up to my snout at one point, and causing me to flinch.
She turned the phone around to reveal an extremely distorted, and equally unflattering close up of my face. “Everybody loves a fish eye filter.”
I didn’t know what to say. The disrespect was palpable.
“Oh, let me show you a trick.” She undid the braid, taking the scarf and wrapping it around front to back, and bringing the ends back around and down through the loop at the front. Then she took the back part, and brought it over the back of my head in a hood, having a bit of trouble getting it past my wool, and pressing my ears down towards the front of my face. I liked the Parisian better.
“This is really uncomfortable.” My voice sounded muffled with the hood flattening my ears.
“Okay, okay. Just let me get one picture.” She pointed the phone at me again.
Once she was done with her ‘photoshoot’, I took off the scarf. “Is this really that enjoyable for you?”
“Extremely. You have no idea how cute this is. I’ll make one with ear holes for you so you can wear the hood comfortably next time.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever need that much insulation.”
“You never know. What if you go to the night for some reason?”
“Despite my heritage, I don’t have much of a thing for freezing temperatures.”
“Well, it’s up to you. Do you like it?”
I folded up the scarf and put it into my bag. “It’s comfy. Like a hug.”
She smiled. “It looks good on you too.”
My tail wagged of its own accord. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Hold on, let’s get one more picture.” She pulled out her phone again, and crouched next to me to match my height, pointing the camera towards us both. “Smile!”
Flustered, I struggled to make the foreign expression. Arlene put her arm around my shoulder, and took the picture.
“There we go, Dad’s gonna get a kick out of that… once I actually get a way to send it to him.” She tapped away at the screen for a moment. “How much time do we have before we need to leave for dinner?”
“A quarter claw or so.”
“Okay, perfect. Since we have some time…” She smiled. “You wanna learn how to spin thread?”
“Sure.”
Her smile deepened. “Okay okay, come on, let me show you how.” She nearly sprinted over to the spinning wheel.
I followed, though not nearly as eager.
“Sit down.” She ordered, bringing up a chair next to the contraption.
I obliged. Arlene loomed over me, looking even larger while I sat in the wooden seat. A pointless shiver went up my spine.
She brought a little bag of rolags next to the wheel, placing it on the ground, then turning to the wheel.
“It’s already set up, but I’ll redo it so you can see how.” She removed the bobbin from its spot. “Before you start, you need a bit of yarn to start off, so you can attach the new fibers to it.” She tied a loop in the end of the yarn, and slotted the bobbin back in with a clack. “It goes in like this. Then we set the tension, which is how much the bobbin will pull on your side of the yarn. You change it using this little knob down here.” She twisted the knob back and forth a few times for effect. “It should be fine for you, just tell me if it’s pulling too hard.”
I flicked an ear.
“Okay, so we bring the yarn along the hooks here, towards this hole, which is called the orifice. I have a little hook here to pull the yarn through.” She stuck it in, then pulled the yarn back through, and handed it to me.
The yarn was fine; a single strand of wool, though I knew it was actually a tangle of several. As I slid my paw pad along the yarn, it felt slightly fuzzy in my paws, with a few errant hairs struggling to escape.
“Don’t grab it so hard. Try to be firm, but gentle.”
I adjusted my grip. “Better?”
“I wont really know for sure until you start. Let’s try the treadle. You play an instrument?”
“No, why?”
What would music have to do with this?
“Well, just pretend that you do. You need to keep a steady beat so the speed stays constant. Put your foot on the treadle and give it a try.” She smiled.
“Okay then.” I put my paw down, and gave it a push. As the wheel turned, my paw was soon lifted back up from the floor, then reaching the apex of the turn. Instinctively, I pushed down again, and the wheel gained yet more speed. Then, I misplaced my next push, and sent the wheel turning the other way.
A pat on my shoulder. I didn’t realize I was so tense. “Relax, it’s hard at first. Just keep trying. You gotta be gentle with it; you don’t want it to go too fast. You had the right idea before, just let it move your foot, and give it a little tap when needed… oh, and be careful not to let go of the yarn.”
“Uh huh… thanks.” I tried again, paying more attention to my timing now. Keeping the speed consistent was harder than it looked. However, while I didn’t think of myself as more coordinated than the average venlil, I think I was getting the hang of it.
“There ya’ go. That’s pretty good. Can you try changing directions?”
How the brahk am I supposed to do that?
I looked up at her, then back to the wheel, when my concentration faltered.
“Just push down before it goes over the top of the spin. It’s basically what you’re doing now, but in reverse.”
Just keeping it spinning was hard enough. Turning it around? Nope, that wasn’t gonna happen.
“Come on, you can do it.”
Ugh.
I attempted to get it to turn in the other way, to no avail; when I pushed down, it still went over the apex of the turn, and I didn’t take the pressure off fast enough, so it sped up way more than before, throwing me off beat.
“Brahk.” I spat, claws from my free paw digging into my thigh. My face burned with bloom.
The wheel slowed to a crawl, then a stop, lifeless. My eyes fixed on it like hooks to meat.
“Hey, don’t worry, just give it another shot.”
“Y-yeah.” I gave it another push, repeating until it was up to speed. The machine made a gentle whirring as it turned.
I watched the treadle, and the plank that attached it to the wheel. After a few more rotations, I gave it a big push in the other direction, and it slowed greatly. The next rotation, I gave it another push, and it turned around.
“Woo! You did it!”
Arlene’s yelling startled me, and I stopped.
“Let’s get you spinning some thread now.” She gave me a big teeth bearing grin.
I tried not to look at her mouth too hard. “Okay.”
She grabbed a rolag from the pile. “It’s probably best if I just show you.”
“Alright.”
Arlene roughed up the end of the rolag, then she grabbed the yarn from my hand, and looped the fibers around the loop. “Could you start it up again?”
“Yeah.”
Once the wheel was spinning, she slid her fingers down the rolag; the whole thing constricted into a length of yarn, due to the twist.
After it twisted up, she fed it into the orifice, which promptly swallowed it up, and then she repeated the process: thinning out the rolag a bit, sliding the twist in, and feeding it into the machine. She did this 6 times before she ran out of fiber. But that didn’t stop her; she just grabbed another rolag and pressed the feathery end into the yarn, and continued. Three more times, and she stopped.
She motioned for me to stop pedaling. “You get all that?”
I blinked. “It doesn’t look too hard.”
“Let’s get to it then.” She handed me the fibers, and stood back, a thumb pointing up to the sky.
I took them in my paws, and held them in a firm grip, so they wouldn’t come out of my hands when I started pedaling. The wheel came up to speed, blurring slightly. My vision narrowed to the singular point in front of me: the fiber. Heartbeats felt like footsteps in my chest, my breathing slow. I felt the fiber; how it pulled against my paws, the roughness of the strands, the texture of the wool. Drafting a bit of the fibers out, I slid my paw pads along the fiber, to let a little twist into it. It strangled into a single line of yarn. Slowly, carefully, I fed it into the orifice, all while keeping the wheel turning at a reasonable speed. There were bits where the yarn was thicker, and thinner, where I failed to keep the fibers consistent. Particles of dust played in the corner of my vision.
Repeat.
The bumps slid against my paw pads like thorns, though I tried to squish them down. I didn’t know how you were supposed to get rid of them. I pulled along the fiber, feeling the twist rub against me. Another length into the bobbin.
Repeat.
My claws slid along the fibers, twist came in, I fed it into the orifice. Repeat. I drafted more fiber, slid along it, and fed it into the orifice. Repeat. I struggled to pull apart the fibers, so I slowed down the wheel’s speed. Repeat. When I untwisted part of the yarn in my paws, the fiber came apart easier. Repeat. Every now and then, I would grab more yarn from the pile, and attach it to the yarn. My leg burned from the constant motion. Repeat.
Repeat, repeat, repeat,
Instead of hitting wool, my paw struck air. I was out. I sopped pedaling, and the wheel came to a stop.
Arlene struck her hands together in a rhythmic motion. “Good job!” She had moved to the other side of the machine from her original place beside me, and I didn’t even notice. “I was going to show you how to feed the yarn evenly onto the bobbin, but you were so focused I just decided to change the hooks for you. Seriously, you’re a natural; I’ve never seen someone get it so fast.”
My mouth was dry from thirst. How long had I been spinning? I glanced around the room. “W-what time is it?”
Arlene grabbed the end of the fibers from my paws and tied it around an extrusion on the machine. “I think you started about forty minutes ago.” She scratched at her head. “Sorry, that’s uh…”
“So not long?” I asked. My perception of time was completely off. It felt like I had just sat down, though that was obviously not the case.
“Yeah.” She replied. “Wanna take a look at your yarn?”
An ear flick later, and she was humming some Earth tune while removing the bobbing from the spinning wheel, tying off the end of the fiber in an overhand knot to keep it from unraveling. After a moment of inspection, she passed the bobbin to me.
“It’s damn good work for your first time.” She said bluntly.
I ran a paw along the bundled yarn. “There’s a bunch of bumps.”
“Come on, I didn’t even show you how to control the thickness yet. You should be proud.” Arlene ordered, with a slap on the back that struck a cough out of me.
She was just being nice, I knew. Arlene was like that; she would probably praise me even if I somehow managed to destroy the wheel. Yet, I couldn’t help but feel a little bit happy about it. I made this. I was holding it in my own two paws.
“Thanks.” I tried to smile.
“Aw, you’re welcome.” Arlene smiled back. It was warm.
“We should get going, or we’ll be late.” I said, handing her the bobbin back.
“Sure, give me a sec.” She replied, grabbing a pocket umbrella from the other room. I considered the claim that humans could smell rain before it started dubious at best. Though, it might have been a good idea to check the weather report.
---
I should have listened.
So much rain, and that’s not even mentioning the wind. Anything that wasn’t blown away was pummeled, including us. We huddled under the singular human umbrella, which was wholly insufficient to shield us from the raindrops. We were shuffling towards the restaurant at a painfully slow pace, Arlene unbuttoning her coat to drape its hydrophobic veil around the both of us. From the outside, we probably looked like a horrid chimera of venlil and human, with tough stitched skin, stretching under powerful muscles. It’s a good thing we didn’t have to worry about other pedestrians. It was too late to go back now.
Arlene said something, but I couldn’t hear it over the rain and the wind.
“What?!” I asked.
“I said! Are we close!?” She yelled in response.
“What?!”
She brought the coat around our heads to shield from the wind. “Are we almost there?!”
“Almost!” I said, throat scratchy.
On the horizon—no, it wasn’t the horizon, it was just the edge of our vision in the wet hell we were trapped in—a spattering of warm neon lights shot through the endless layers of water like a photon cannon, while each speck of liquid reflected the shiny oasis, beckoning us closer with promises of warmth and comfort. Arlene slipped on a puddle, her boots caked thick with mud, the rubber treads no longer providing traction. I helped her to steady herself, and almost fell myself.
I saw movement in the window of the establishment, the details of which I couldn’t place. A drop of rain charged straight into my eye, and I lost focus.
There was a small awning above the door, but it didn’t do much to help against the rain, completely useless against the nearly sideways path of the water. Though, at least we weren’t completely soaked. Arlene’s coat was a boon I couldn’t have predicted. I was beginning to see the appeal of human apparel; I couldn’t imagine traveling through such weather with just my wool, or, stars forbid, nothing but skin. Though, that wouldn’t stop my brain from trying.
The rain like gunfire, wind stinging like nettles, piercing right through your insignificant form. Bones rattling with imminent death, breath frozen in the lungs.
We both wiped our feet on the doormat, which was as soaked as everything else. Arlene heaved the door open with excessive force, completely void of concern for the reaction of those inside the building, which was… sub-optimal, to say the least.
I had not yet noticed what an expensive place it was, but as soon as I spotted the two waitstaff near the entrance, I couldn’t help but say a prayer for my wallet, and our survival. Both of them nearly jumped out of their wool as soon as we entered, and almost immediately after, the more confident of the two stepped forward to shove us right back out the doors.
“Get out, get out! You’ll scare the patrons!” He hissed, below the chatter of the dining area.
“We’re not going back into the storm.” Arlene informed him.
“Oh yes you are, human.” The waitstaff corrected.
“We do not serve predators in this establishment.” The second educated further.
You’re not going to let them speak to her like that, are you?
I flicked my tail in disgust, and my voice bounded forth with unprecedented spirit. “Are you brahking dense? You can’t refuse service because she’s human.”
“What a farce. Do you seriously expect the exterminators to comply with that drivel?” The first questioned.
“Who in their right mind would let a blood thirsty animal into a place for eating? Do you want to get someone killed? Or are you just as mad?” Reiterated the second.
“What the fuck did you just say?” I inquired calmly.
Arlene grabbed me by the shoulders. “Hey, calm down. They’re just doing their jobs.”
Jobs? What do jobs have to do with this?
“You must be some sort of mad if you think we’re going back into that storm.” I explained.
The first waitstaff sighed. “Do you even have a reservation?”
“Of course we do!” I pulled my datapad out from its pocket. It wouldn’t turn on.
“What’s wrong?” Arlene asked.
“The rain killed it.” I replied.
“No reservation? I figured.” Said the first waitstaff, with an extremely punchable look on his face. “Then, if you please. Get. Out.”
“Now hold on just a second,” Arlene said, with palms raised in some sort of odd threat display. “it’s murder out there. Won’t you let us stay at least until the rain lets up?”
“Most certainly not.” Said the first.
“Not a chance.” Echoed the second.
“Look, I’m sorry about my friend, he’s on edge because of the storm. We won’t be long, just until it’s safe to leave.” She pleaded.
Some of the people dining noticed the commotion at the door, and more than a few shot sidelong glances at us. Gusts of wind blew against the door, shaking it against the little foyer we were standing in.
As the waitstaff were about to give their rebuttal, I spotted a familiar coat near the back of the dining room, ducking out from behind a covered booth. A small figure, with sandy fur, and a look of endless confidence on his face: Gram. He made his way towards the entrance, stopped a few paces from the foyer, rubbed his eyes, pinched himself, rubbed his eyes again, and then hid a deranged snicker behind his paw.
“H-hey Meba.” He let out a muffled giggle. “Doormen giving you trouble?”
I rolled my eyes.
Gram addressed the waitstaff. “Don’t worry, he’s with me.”

When I moved into my current home I noticed the freezer wasn’t freezing food properly. I had made a maintenance request for this issue, but when the maintenance guy came out he put in his temperature probe and it read 14 degrees F. He said there was no issue and left. The problem continued so I purchased a freezer chest to keep my frozen food from thawing.
Recently I purchased two thermometers that give me both the highest and lowest temperatures. The freezer temperature fluctuates from 14 degrees to 43 degrees, and that’s without opening and closing the door since I’ve been using the freezer I purchased. The refrigerator fluctuates from 43 degrees to 47 degrees. How do I go about this issue?
They’re both set at the coldest setting.

For as long as I can remember, I have been able to see people's auras, Though, I don't know if I consider myself to be a psychic. Auras come in all sorts of colors and hues, and when people are excited or really emotional, their auras get bigger and brighter. I can see mine too, it's a nice purpleey shadeee There are other people (whom l've spoken to on online forums) who can see auras too. I'm not sure what an aura is exactly, I don't think anyone really knows, but most people think it's a visualization of our soul. I have never really cared much, since it doesn't seem to affect my life. I mostly see it as a fun little quirk, not some sort of power. I used to work in grooming tales vhannae organization ani they had hired a new guy. The weird thing is, this new guy (I'll call him Ravi ) and he didn't have an aura. Now, I have never ever seen a person without one, and sometimes a person's aura can be faint, ekdam ai thorai ani faint but Ravi straight-up did not have one at all. I couldn't exactly ask him why, as I figured he probably didn't believe in psychic shit, and would think I was crazy.
Well, I tried to let it go and not think about it, but I couldn't stop obsessing over it ani it started to get weird pachi I caught myself staring at him all the time, trying to make out even a hint of something. There had to be a reason, right? I found myself focusing on him, I would always eat lunch in a spot where I could look at him. (Sounds like tyo creepy stalker shit but anw) Now here's where it started to get even weirder: ravi never brought lunch. During our break, he would sit in the corner of the room on his phone alwayssssss He never ate or drank anything, not even water(bly manor ko hanna wala shi) One day I couldn't stand it, and I sat by him and offered him half of my roti and kauli ko tarkari Ravi declined and told me he just wasn't hungry like how k Well, that didn't make sense to me, I mean, he skipped lunch every single day, surely he had to be hungry sometimes, right? Ki k?
Ek din Ravi mentioned a football game coming up that Sunday, and asked if I wanted to come over and watc thought this was weird like jiskera vhaneko jasto . I barely knew this guy, and he already inviting me over to his place like we were friends xya creeepy k aba mailae deko food xai na khanae rae ani asking me to come over FFS I tried to think of an excuse at first, but then I figured that maybe, if I went to his place, I could discover a reason as to why he was so weird. Tara I didn’t go I mean how tf could I ? Right ? What if he like killed me ? Ate me ? Hhahaahahba So, that Saturday I came home did my daily chores and slept and as soon as I feel asleep Sunday came and I went over to Ravis it felt ekdaaaamm real , His house was small tara nice, and he came out onto the dhoka to greet me. He invited me in, and he seemed very happy for some reason . Usually he didn't talk to anyone at work, but as soon as I went into the house he started yapping like bak bak bak bak . He asked me how I liked work, what my favorite football team was( man city ) if I had a significant other and overall he was being very nice. I shivered a bit, as his house was freezing very colddddd . He turned on the football game and we watched and made small talk. I can't remember much of what he said, but it was all boring, pointless stuff anyway, like what he thought of work, and what books he liked to read. The whole time I was trying not to stare at him, at his weird, auraless body even in sapana I noticed that ravi was sweating despite the temperature of the house which was chisooo for me . About an hour into the game, Ravi excused himself to the bathroom. Well, I sat there for about fifteen minutes in his cold ass living room, badi hola aajhai and he didn't come back like gayeb k . I heard a weird noise come from the hallway, so l got up to check it out. I found the bathroom, and could hear a sound coming from inside, like someone was throwing up. I knocked and asked if everything was alright, and ravi coughed a bit ani said he was fine. I figured he must have gotten food poisoning or something. I hurried back into the living room, and I wasn't sure what to do. I was getting uncomfortable; ravi was really friendly but there was something off about him. Maybe I am more psygal than I previously thought, maybe I had some sort of strange intuition, because I felt like something wasn't right. After another ten minutes, my throat started to get dryyy ani went into the kitchen, grabbed a cup and put it under the water dispenser .Well, nothing came out.
I opened the fridge. There was nothing in it, and it wasn't even on, just a dark fridge of empty shelves. Curious and weirded out, I looked in the other kitchen ko daraz and the pantry. All empty. Khali khali khali I heard the bathroom door open so I quickly went back to the couch. Ravi was more sweaty than before, and his face was red, so I figured he had to have been vomiting. I asked him if he was alright, but he said it was nothing. We still continued to watch the football game rae (weird) until it ended. I was about to get my ass out of there, but Ravi said he wanted to show me something. I told him I really had to be going, but he insisted. So, I followed Ravi down ko floor ma , which was way colder than the upstairs. It was really dark, only a single tubelight . People's aura's normally are more visible and shine in the dark, so it was weird seeing him shrouded in darkness. My own aura was shining very bright because I was so nervous. We reached the tala, and I saw that on
God nvm ….
I know I'm stupid, and what I did was really, really fucking dumb ( even if it was a dream because I can bend most of my dreams to my will )
My memory isn't the best, but I remember everything Ravi said after that: "It's not worth it, it's not worth it... I'm sorry." I was going to ask what the fuck Ravi was talking about, but my mouth wouldn't open. I tried walking forward, but my legs wouldn't move. I tried raising my arms, but they too were stuck in place. It was like I was frozen, like a statue.(aaithan vayae jasto ) The room brightened alik . Ravi coughed, and I swear I saw blood on his hand. He said something quietly, words I didn't understand, before turning away from me. He kept saying he was sorry, over and over as he walked back upstairs. I think I had tears in my eyes a that point. Like k vayo vayoooooo ekaichoti The following hours seemed like a dream in a dream . You know how, even if you can't see, you can tell if there is someone behind you? I felt that, felt a presence standing behind me. I felt hands on my shoulders, sharp claws digging into my skin. My head pounded, and the room was spinning, I felt like I was going to be sick. Vomit aaula jasto I felt an immense pressure. I tried to scream, tried to yell for help, tried to beg for my life, but my mouth remained shut tyakkai aaithan vaye jasto I closed my eyes, waiting for the worst, and opened them again , I was in the dark feriii Suddenly, I could move again. I was in my room woken up all sweatyyyyy and terrifieddd ! Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw when I went to work next week . Ravi had an aura, bright and green (aakha khanae ) . He seemed much happier. He mingled with all coworkers and brought food during lunch. He avoided me though, and I avoided him too I didn’t wanna see his face !
Ever since the incident at his house wala dream , it’s different I feel weird , and I'm starving because everything I eat tastes like so weirdddd !! I have a doctor's appointment scheduled voli But I can't bring up the worst of my concerns: my aura wasss gone.
I woke up and the aura is still gone !

I don't know if this is just someone's idea, or if it's part of the references, but the descriptions of some of the buildings are very well written; here is about Industrial Hothouse for example:

Produce 60 Raw Food/10h.
The Industrial Hothouse is a fully-industrialized hothouse that has a hermetically sealed interior and thick glass windows that allow light to enter and keep the warmth inside and cold outside. Two powerful Steam Cores are kept running around the clock, generating heat to the interior of the building which houses an environment of warm and humid air and soil at the right temperatures to keep the delicate plant life alive. As opposed to its rough-hewn predecessor; the Industrial Hothouse is able to grow Old World vegetables and fruits like Grain, Tomatoes, Potatoes, Corn, Apples, Pumpkins, melons, and the like.
This structure has become something of a beacon of hope for our community, not just as another source of food, but that it serves as a reminder of what once was, and that one day we might be able to make the world green once again. Many are starting to consider work inside one of these warm and comfortable wombs of steel and glass to be the highest privilege one can get in this frozen hellscape. Caring for future generations of seeds or seedlings that may one day flourish in the New World after this New Ice Age has ended.
Many people have already come forward and offered any seeds or seedlings they had in their possession; some of them were species of grains, vegetables, or fruits we thought were lost during the Great Frost.

Compare it with other articles, like the one about Steelworks:

Produce 40 Steel/10h.
Steelworks can be adjusted by partially blocking the placement with road or other buildings.