Thank you, who decides to take the time to read this.
I'm Marta, and I'd love to share a bit of myself with you in the hope of finding companionship, comfort and love. I am looking for a long term relationship, someone with whom I might want to settle down, perhaps you? Please just note that I’m looking for sfw at the beginning. Physical attraction isn’t part of the equation for me. It all begins with emotional connection. If I become comfortable with you, you have sense of humor, you’re an open person who is not afraid of voicing opinions and have something interesting to say you’re my type probably (if you are a firefighter consider it certain, I might have something for firefighting gear). If you’re more of a physical attraction kind of person that’s not a problem. Simply ask for photo and end one of yours.
Now something more about me.
❤️ 5ft 2in, 195lb. I am Caucasian. I have longer light brown hair, blue eyes. Working on losing off some of it. I would love it if you could help keep me motivated.
❤️ I work full-time as a account manager (still, but might change jobs soon). It’s nothing that I would like to do, but I earn enough to live more than comfortable. Some evenings and weekends I also work at my local McDonald’s. It might sound crazy, but I treat it as a hobby. I love having contact with customers and employees there and each completed and served order is like a dopamine shot.
❤️ I’ve discovered that I like watching people playing games much more than just playing them myself. I love being on calls with my friends and watching them play games while commenting everything and taking about anything in between. But if you’re someone who is looking for person that will be right beside you while playing, we can tray delving into forgotten dungeons or win a battle royale. I would love to see your face light up every time we share a game, cause every co-op game is a confession that I want to spend more time with you.
❤️ I like watching movies, series, videos etc. Especially true crime and catastrophic documentaries. I’m open for anything except for horrors about demons, possessions and devil. That stuff scares me and I would never watch it alone or without physical presence of someone I trust.
❤️ I'm a hopeless romantic so I might be looking for a partner that I can be hopelessly romantic with. You know, someone that I can do all the cutesy couple shit with like going on random date nights, or going to a park or random city and people watch, or just cuddle up and watch our favorite shows while wearing matching pajamas. I'm looking for someone that can be my cheerleader, and someone who would want me to be their loudest and biggest cheerleader. Life is hard to do alone, and we all need someone to help us through it.
❤️ I like to think that I am a very laid back, go with the flow type of person, and I would much rather have a night in, than a night out.
❤️ I am very open minded, however I don’t smoke so if you’re someone that smells of cigarettes all the time and want to smoke at home, car we won’t be a match I think.
❤️ I know politics is a pretty big thing for people, but it isn’t a big part in my life - that being said I can sum up my take on politics in one sentence: let women, gays, and people of all races dance their dances after smoking their marijuana crops or whatever, then maybe kill the rich or tax them to death.
❤️ I have this thing called hate for being wet once I’m not intending on. So rain, being splashed accidentally or purposefully etc. it’s a huge no for me. I can’t function in rain without umbrella. Take it or leave it.
I hope this snippet catches your eye, even though it’s only a small piece of me.
Who am I looking for?
💙 My only preferences are someone who is roughly 26-40 in age, a few years outside of that would be okay if we really connect.
💙 I’m ok with distance but you must consider that I want to eventually meet.
💙 Someone who is caring and have sense of humor.
💙 Someone who always tries to see things in a perspective other than their own, but holds morals highly.
💙 Someone who doesn't mind me texting them at like 3am to tell them about the action in the last episode of the show I just finished. Just basically you need to be open for reviving random thoughts, photos, out of context facts and contemplations, TikTok’s, instagram posts, memes and a lot more.
💙 Someone who lives life with passion, but once they are down they would not be hesitant to share that burden. If you're passionate about something I really want to be a part of it in some way. If it's listening to you ramble for hours about that obscure album you just found or the new succulent you just bought or this wild spice blend you've been trying out. Whatever makes you smile, cry, think, I want to understand it.
Note that I prefer discord over here and I love voice calls.
If that sound interesting, my dms are open.

Hi folks,
Wondering if any generous souls might be willing to give me their two cents on two layouts I did this morning. The relevant background here (confirmed with another reading) is that I'm currently part of a destruction dynamic going on with my current employer (whom I'm trying to leave asap) and I believe that business is going under. Approx. six months ago, I did some readings which seemingly indicated a destruction dynamic and I asked for clarification here. Some kind people interpreted the spreads as saying to lay low for a while, which I've been doing until very recently when I've felt called to do some divination.
For what its worth, based on the water of life card appearing frequently, it seems I'm on my correct path and healing, if that helps as additional context.
In a yes/no reading from the Tarot Skills for the 21st century:
"Is there an available curriculum of magical learning which would provide more net benefit to my life than Quareia?" (what I was trying to get at was whether, overall, there was a program that might be a better fit - I haven't come across it and remain very interest in Quareia and generally a big fan of JMC).
Answer:

1. What the question is about: Magical Death
   
2. The relevant past: Underworld
   
3. Difficulties to be overcome: Dreams
   
4. Help you are given: Partnership
   
5. The future outcome/what the answer will lead to: Hidden Knowledge
   
6. The answer: Ghost
   

I had and have no idea how to read the Ghost here as an answer. I believe from other divination that the destructive dynamic going on at work (of which I'm seemingly a necessary part) is underworld related (which may be a duh for some folks, apologies, but I know nothing).
So because I found this really confusing, I did a clarifying reading with the tree of life layout used in the same book, and asked: "Is the Ghost card in the prior reading telling me there is a spirit of a dead person around me or the situation?"

1. What the story is about: Stargazers
   
2. Positive or giving aspect forming the story: Fate Weavers
   
3. What is hidden or past that has bearing on the story: Leadership
   
4. What is necessary for the story to develop: Unraveller
   
5. What is withheld from the story or being taken away: East Gate
   
6. The pivotal aspect of the story: Inner Desert
   
7. What needs discipline or limiting for success: True Justice
   
8. What needs relaxing to flow: Service
   
9. The reason or dynamic behind the answer: Separation
   
10. The answer: Voice of untruth
    

I read the answer here via the voice of untruth as being "No, not the spirit of a dead person." I assume the separation dynamics have to do with separating from my employment, and that perhaps service is being used as a substitute for "work" meaning relax about work or don't do as much, but no idea. Leadership, I assume refers to my past actions. But this left me with no sense of the answer to my original question.
I've found the whole thing really confusing. If you've made it this far with me, I really appreciate you. To help figure out what these other readings mean, I did the Mystagogus layout, which read as follows. I don't ask that anyone try to interpret this for me, but merely provide it for context on the other readings.
1. Progenitor: what the story is about
a. Water Of Life: soul nourishment, sacred healing, physical healing, divine love, regeneration, working with water energy
2. Endurance: what must be overcome for success/growth
a. Sacred Place: holy place, sacred space, place of divine presence, clean, balanced, safe place, special person, nature power spot
3. Unraveling: what must be let go of or loosened up, or what is falling away
a. South Gate: south, future, fire, creative fire, volatile energy, yes, positive
4. Partnership: what you are closely interacting with or what is having a direct influence
a. Destruction: loss, destruction, dangerous imbalance, destructive behavior, make a major change, painful rebalancing, catastrophe, natural disaster, get out of the way.
5. Hearth: home, family, tribe
a. Silence: be silent, do not act, you do not need to know, do not ask, think before speaking, secrets and keeping secrets
6. West Gate: what is now fading into the past but can return
a. Load sharer: sharing a burden, upholding others, caretaking, holding a magical working, protecting someone, helping, hard work, enabling someone
7. North Gate: what is now long past and will not return, but has relevance
a. Harvester: death, change, liberation, closing, limited time, letting go, end of a fate cycle, loss of control that destroys.
8. Fate weavers: the current individual’s fate pattern that is active
a. West Gate: leaving, coming to an end, very recent past, slowing down, aging, direction of west, probably not, no longer viable
9. The Path: what is moving forward, active and positive
a. Companions: working creature companion, tend to creatures, augury, an important animal or bird, an animal is the key
10. The Binder: what is withheld, is not active, nor should be
a. Creating: creating, painting, writing, sacred art, consecrated art, sacred words, creative service, music, drama, the creative act
11. The gift: help that comes to the situation
a. Hidden Knowledge: unseen, secret, hidden, beyond understanding, hidden potential, unknown, depths, unseen water, incubation of great learning, despair before emerging, dark night of the soul
12. Underworld: The adversary of the situation
a. The Path: important fate path, trust, yes, correct, way ahead, action, move forward
13. Dreams: what is happening in sleep and dreams, can also be a position of visionary work
a. Progenitor: Idea forming, divine presence, preconception, before dawn
14. Inner Worlds: What is flowing to the situation from the innespirit worlds
a. Unraveller: falling apart, falling away, loosening, breaking up slowly, crumbling, unwinding.
15. Daimon: advice offered on what actions are needed for success
a. Perception: pay attention, a sign, warning, exposing hidden information, precognition, prophecy, awareness, truth, understanding the truth, seeing what others do not see, seeing what is veiled.
16. Danger: what is dangerous and can inhibit or stop progress
a. Purification: ritual cleansing, purify, consecreate, bathe, tidy up, clean space, make sacred
17. East Gate: Short term future, the path ahead
a. Splendor: yes, success, achievement, joy, beauty, respect, harmony
18. South Gate: What will come to be in the longer term future as a result of the current situation
a. Secret Commonwealth: land being, faery, nature spirit, unpredictable person or situation, make no promises, strangeness, a need for integrity in the face of unfairness
I took a lot of comfort in this reading because it seems like I'm at least on a positive path even in the midst of a destructive tide or dynamic with my company. I read some of this as "stay muddy to be camouflaged, don't cleanse yourself or your home overmuch."
Would really appreciate any thoughts or insight of parts or the whole of this.
Thanks all, and hope everyone is safe and healthy.

Original Prompt

Chapter 27
"And you say this starry field consumes your entire form?" Kher's attention - like everyone else's - was on Cass's arm. As they rode forward at the head of the caravan, colorful bands and flecks of distant starlight moved through her limb. Like glittering lights in a stream, never did the same pattern repeat.
"When I want it to, yeah." Cass flexed her night-black fingers. Her arm was pain-free in the dark, so long as the others kept their torches away. The flames had been put out after a stray flicker of light gave her a jolt; the sudden, involuntary twitch nearly caused her to remove Charis's hand.
"Why does your arm seem so much smaller during the day?" Nuu asked. "I've seen you in battle, you are not a withered husk of a person."
"Part of the curse. Fire weakens me." Cass looked up at the night sky, imagining the great ball of flame hanging over her head as it did all day, every day. She did not need to explain to them that the Sun was the greatest source of fire in the world. Their religion was built around that.
"But that's only when I'm not immersed in it it," she continued, "when I'm trying to be me. When I use it to fight I sort of..." She rolled her right hand in front of her as she looked for words. The feeling she'd never been able to verbalize continued to elude her. "I sort of...jump into it. Like into a pool of water, but it's not water, it's something else."
"Darkness," Nuu said, quietly.
"Stars!" Kher was more enthusiastic.
"Maybe? I don't know another way to describe it, but-"
"What is going on here!?" The icy whiplash of Kebb's tongue cut through the night. Cass looked over her shoulder and saw him riding up with his torch in hand and quickly covered her arm with her robe.
"Careful!" Charis said, holding out a hand toward Kebb, "Put out your torch or-"
"Put out my torch?" Kebb, who had always been so calm and peaceful, looked like he was caught between the desire to vomit or to strike Charis for what he'd said. "You all know the Tenets. Putting out your flames in the dark is...is..."
"I'm sorry," Cass spoke up, waving her good hand to take Kebb's attention, "I was just-"
"Cassandra, I do not blame you for any of this." Kebb didn't yell, but he was terse. "You are not a Disciple, you are not obligated to follow the Light. Please, take my position at the rear of the caravan so that I may remind these wayward Flames of their oaths."
"But-"
"Please." Kebb leveled a stare at her. Cass was undaunted, but Charis touched her shoulder. She looked their way and they smiled at her.
"We'll be fine," they said.
Cass reigned in Cassiopeia, her camel, and they waited off to the side of the sandstone road for the others to pass. Mica and Iuven both gave her a nod while Nuut ignored her. Anatu - riding near the back with the water cart - asked what she was doing.
"Kebb wants me to ride in the rear," she answered. That was enough for the Captain and they continued on.
Cass followed well behind the caravan for a time, lamenting the silence and the loss of interesting conversation. She thought Nuu was starting to come around, too. Having them and their sister not give her a death stare every time they looked her way would be nice.
With a tug on the reigns, Cass picked up the pace and got closer to the water cart. Her swordspear was there and, if she was going to be protecting from any raiders sneaking up from behind, she wanted it on hand. As she grabbed it she heard Kebb return to ride along with Anatu.
"I took care of the Light," he said, "since you wouldn't."
"It's advantageous to keep to the dark at night." Anatu sounded tired.
"It goes against every Tenet of-"
"I know the Tenets, Kebb. I'm not saying I agree with their...'poor' choices. I just wish you wouldn't get upset at them for being logical."
"Hmph. You give them too much slack. They were all huddled around Cassandra and looking at her...affliction."
"The curse? Did she look like she was losing control?"
"Helen assured me that Cassandra is in full control of her beastial nature."
"Hmph. Is that supposed to be comforting? That she chooses to become that creature? To rip people in half?"
"As long as she does it on our command-"
"On my command."
Cass wanted to tell them both to fuck off in the silence that followed but waited just a moment longer. Cit always told her to count to ten before acting whenever she had an advantage or was ready to spring an ambush. Taking a deep, slow breath, Cass counted backward and within seconds they continued talking.
"I'll put Cassandra on lookout duty tomorrow," Anatu said.
"I already told you, no. The light makes her vulnerable. Helen would not want it."
"Fine, write Helen then." Anatu's tone was light and daring. "Oh wait, you didn't think bringing a hawk was a good idea. I guess you'll have to wait for Helen to write you so you can ask."
"Careful, Anatu, you-"
"You can both just fuck off, you know." Cass was tired of being talked about like a tool. She gave her camel's reigns a tug to stop her and let the water cart pull further ahead. Kebb leaned around the cart while riding and looked back at her. She held up her swordspear in a mocking salute until she could no longer hear the clatter of camel feet and wagon wheels on sandstone.
With a smirk, she clicked her tongue and Cassiopeia continued forward. Letting Kebb and Anatu think she might ride up behind them and eavesdrop any moment was a nice consolation prize for losing out on a night of gossip.

Happy Monday, Barkada --

The PSE lost 10 points to 6619 ▼0.1%

Today is MB's 5th birthday!
I'm not really a big celebrations guy, so I'm not sure how to mark the occasion, except to say that I'm thankful for your continued readership and for the community of great people that has grown up around the newsletter as the days turned into weeks, turned into months, and turned into years.
Want to see something crazy? Here's MB's very first episode.
For those who have been there from the beginning, thank you for guiding MB's development through all of my weird experiments over the years. Your comments, support, and willingness to help always leave me speechless.
For those who support MB on Patreon now and in the past, your generosity in paying for something that you receive for free is humbling. Your support has helped me build scripts, host my site, and pay for help.
For those who contribute to MB directly, like Jewel, and to all of my partners, Mike Tan of Vini.com, Ely Paclibar (Your REIT Buddy), and Investagrams, thank you for working with me every morning to stitch this newsletter together. It wouldn't be the same without you.
Today is something of a long episode, but I hope you'll indulge me on MB's birthday because I really hope that you'll like the segment about the team of traders that I've sponsored to enter the Trading Cup 2024 competition, and the review of Alternergy's STAR Investor Day presentation.
Hope you like it!

▌In today's MB:

• PSE suspends PNX, C, and INFRA
• Zobels sell remaining MWC holdings
• TC24: Introducing MB's Trading Cup 2024 team!
  • The Trading Cup competition
  • Meet Matthew, Jenny, and Sef
  • Good luck team!
• Alternergy's first public Q&A
  • Its growth strategy
  • Outlook of renewables market
  • Why it loves wind
  • When dividends?

▌Daily meme Subscribe (it's free) Today's email

▌Today's sponsor: DoubleDragon

▌Main stories covered:

• [UPDATE] PNX, C, and INFRA suspended for failure to submit Annual Reports... The PSE issued suspensions to three companies [link] prior to the open of trade on Friday morning for failure to submit FY23 Annual Reports. The three companies suspended are Phoenix Petroleum [PNX 4.17 ▼0.2%; 0% avgVol], Chelsea Logistics [C 1.30 ▲4.0%; 0% avgVol], and Philippine Infradev [INFRA 0.53 ▲1.9%; 0% avgVol]. AgriNurture [ANI 0.62 ▲8.8%; 305% avgVol] narrowly avoided suspension by submitting its Annual Report 38 minutes before the PSE’s suspension deadline. The ANI FY23 Annual Report disclosure erroneously reports a net income improvement of 1560% to ₱146 million, instead of a ₱146 million net loss, perhaps this oversight comes from a behind-the-scenes race to submit before the deadline.
  
  • MB: I’m married to an accountant who did the auditing grind for years, so I know that it’s not easy to put these reports together; they’re complex and knock-ons from problems in any of the subsidiaries can cause problems that ripple up the chain and back down. That being said, producing these annual reports is something of a bare-minimum condition of public corporate life. Every management group rides its accounting department and its auditing team into the dirt to get its quarterly and annual reports out on time. I don’t have any inside knowledge into why PNX, C, and INFRA are in this position, but I listen to the silence from these management groups. Good teams communicate with their minority shareholders in times of uncertainty, and a trading suspension is a time of great uncertainty for retail investors.
• [NEWS] **Ayala Corp sells remains of its MWC holdings to Enrique Razon for ₱14.5-B... Ayala Corp [AC 620.00 ▲1.3%; 131% avgVol] [link] disclosed that its subsidiaries, Michigan Holdings and Philwater Holdings, would sell their combined holdings in Manila Water Company [MWC 26.60 ▼1.5%; 123% avgVol] to Trident Water Company Holdings (TWC), which is owned by MWC’s current owner, Enrique Razon. The combined value of the two sales to TWC is ₱14.5 billion. The block of shares coming to TWC through Michigan Holdings was already processed and paid-for (~₱12.9 billion), and the remaining ₱1.6 billion worth of shares from Philwater Holdings will be purchased in installments over the next five years. AC confirmed that it will have no post-transaction common share interest in MWC, and that its voting stake will be “nil”.
  
  • MB: In a weird way, the transfer of ownership and control of MWC from the Zobel Family to the Razon Family is one of the only lasting “achievements” of the Duterte administration. I put “achievements” in quotation marks because it’s not clear how the President’s overreach into the public markets benefitted anyone other than the obvious (MWC’s current owner). As longtime readers of MB will know I have a deep respect for Mr. Razon’s business acumen and operational quality, but I don’t know that MWC customers have necessarily felt any change as a result of this transfer, and I don’t know that minority shareholders have felt any change either. So maybe it was just Mr. Razon in the right place at the right time while Duterte rode the media waves of threatening the Zobels with death and dismemberment? Yeah, it was a weird time.
• [TC24] Introducing MB’s Trading Cup 2024 team!...Merkado Barkada** is sponsoring a team of three traders to compete in Trading Cup 2024 hosted by Investa, where hundreds of traders will be competing for up to ₱640k in total prizes based on their trading performance with ₱300k in virtual currency across the PSE, US markets, and crypto markets. This is a long competition (it runs from April 22 through July 26), so we will follow the members of Team MB throughout the contest to check in on what’s working, what’s not working, and what it’s like on the front-lines of the country’s largest trading tournament. Let’s meet the team!
  
  • “Hi I’m Matthew. I’m a project manager in network engineering in the telecommjnications industry and an agency leader in one of the top global brands in insurance. I have been trading since 2016. Though I like momentum trading, I found more success in position trading because it is less volatile since I can only check my open positions during my free time.” Matthew is 37 and lives in Paranaque. Trading experience: PSE (8 years), US (1 year), CRYPTO (1 year).*
  • “Hi I'm Jennelyn. I'm a Civil Engineer by profession in a government organization. I started trading back in 2020 for a year. I was reckless back then, but I've learned a lot, I'd say. I stopped trading in 2021 to focus on my career and I shifted my trading journey to learning first. Now with the Trading Cup I've found another motivation to push through. I tried day trading, and it was really frustrating and draining, so this time I'm doing swing trading through price action and volume.
  • “My name is Sef. I'm currently in college studying Management. I've been mostly self-taught but over the years I took a lot of learnings from other people. I've tried a lot of strategies but most of the time I'm a swing trader. So, I try to look for strong catalysts and take positions within times of consolidations. My implementation of it during the competition hasn't been perfect, partly due to finals week. But I trust in the process. I've been trading in the PSE for 5 years now. I only started trading the US markets and Crypto, recently. I think my current performance in the competition is reflective of my experience within the three markets. [PSE: +17.4%, CRYPTO: +4.2%, US: -11.5%]. We still have a few months to go and it's still anyone's game. A lot of the top leaderboard right now is primarily driven by 1 or 2 positions that no one saw coming, I think you can guess which stocks I'm referring to.
    • MB: Welcome to the team, Matthew, Jenny, and Sef! My goal in founding Team MB is to give readers a little insight into the thought processes behind the winning and losing trades of each team member. We have a diverse group across age, background, experience, and trading style, so I think we’ll get some interesting perspectives on the markets as the weeks go by before the July 26 finale. The team members will get to keep 100% of any prizes that they win, along with a monthly stipend from Merkado Barkada for all the coffee/snacks needed to keep focus on all three markets simultaneously. Good luck, team!
• [NEWS] Alternergy conducts first public Q&A since IPO... Alternergy [ALTER 0.70 ▲1.4%; 159% avgVol] presented its Q1 results on Wednesday as part of the PSE’s STAR Investor Day event, and MB was there to document its first public Q&A with institutional and retail investors since its IPO over a year ago. For me, the most interesting component of any STAR presentation is the Q&A, because it’s where we get the chance to hear the management team talk outside of the the cold forensics of the financial statements to address the hope, fear, optimism, and pessisim of the average investor.
  
  • On enhancing shareholder value: The ALTER team said that it’s focus is on controlling what it can control, and that as a developer, it does everything that it can to complete projects “within the timeline and committed budget”, increase its pipeline, and build good relationships with stakeholders.
  • On its growth strategy: ALTER said that its “DNA is a developer”, and therefore its “preference is brownfield development” as opposed to acquisitions. (MB note: “Brownfield” means development on land that has been previously used for some other purpose. “Greenfield” would be development on untouched land.) The management team said that it is open to being “opportunistic” with acquisitions, but that its overall focus is on “looking for projects from the ground and building them toward completion.”
  • On outlook of renewables market: “The power industry is really at the point where there is a sustained pressure towards a price increase.” The ALTER team said that there’s a shortage of power supply, and what existing supply there is will come under pressure as power plants age or weather phenomena disrupt operations. ALTER said that it’s strategy is to simply grow its portfolio into this market gap, especially over the next two years.
  • On wind vs solar: The ALTER team was asked whether it was intentional to be “more exposed to wind rather than solar”, and ALTER responded by saying that while both wind and solar are scalable, they “like wind” because it generates more electricity per installed capacity. As the ALTER team put it: “For instance, if we build a 50 MW solar, you’ll only need a 25 MW wind project to match the amount of energy that we will be generating.” ALTER said that wind is also less intensive in terms of land use to generate the same amount of energy, and that its analysis shows that wind projects generate more cash flow than solar projects.
  • On starting to distribute dividends: *One question asked when ALTER would start paying dividends, and the ALTER team responded (after a laugh) that it’s “all about resource allocation”. ALTER said that at this stage, it’s a growth company, and that it would like to use its resources to build a “sizeable portfolio over the medium term” with the goal of “increasing shareholder value.” ALTER said that once it has achieved that goal, “dividend payments would not be far behind.
    • MB:Kudos to any management team that takes questions from the public. It’s not easy to be this communicative and transparent, but as a long-term investor, this kind of insight into the management team’s thinking and analysis of their own data and the market as a whole is important. If your trading style is technical, ALTER’s analysis of wind versus solar isn’t going to matter to you at all, but if your thesis is based on bets in the power generation sector, that response might trigger some research that could be helpful. Overall I’d say that the ALTER team did very well. It was clear that they were nervous, but over time I’m sure the team will become more comfortable with answering the questions and interacting with the investing community in such a person-to-person way. Well done, ALTER!

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I work weekends at a gas station and it's mostly enjoyable. Sunday mornings bring in the boomers, accompanied by unrivaled levels of entitlement and disrespect. I have noticed some common behaviors, but it's usually a combination of a few.

1. Not acknowledging the cashier's existence. I greet every customer, at least give me a nod when you're greeted. It's incredibly rude, and they seem to get mad if I don't continue pleasantries after receiving a cold, silent death stare.
   
2. Throwing money on the counter, typically one at a time but sometimes the whole amount - bonus points if they haven't even counted it. Last Sunday I just tossed the change back at a particularly rude customer so he'd know how it felt. Count it yourself and hand me the money like an adult.
   
3. Claiming everything is broken when it's not. I can see exactly what you're doing on the pump and in store and it's obviously user error. You have to leave the chip card in while it processes, the pump needs your zip code, you have to hit yes to accept the charges, and the soap/towel dispensers are motion activated. 'The pump' did not put 93 in your car, you selected that clearly labeled option and I will not refund the price difference from 87.
   
4. Stop making up prices. I have a sheet with EVERY soda price, everything else is marked.
   
5. Don't get mad at me because I don't know what you want. I'm a cashier at a shitty gas station, not the concierge at the White Lotus. You're not special and I only work two days a week, sorry I don't remember what lottery tickets your wife wanted two Sundays ago when I last saw you.
   
6. Getting too comfortable/wannabe regulars. Stop calling me the new guy, I've been here for months. Stop trying to give me shit, I don't know you and don't get paid enough to laugh at your insulting 'jokes'. I probably won't pretend to laugh at any of your jokes, because I don't hate women or minorities. No, I'm not filling in for Jake, if you were actually a regular you'd know this has been his day off for 6 months.
   

I don't let stuff get to me anymore, but Sundays bummed me out at first. Why be so rude and ignorant to strangers that are nothing but kind and helpful?

I believed in fairies as a kid. More than believed in them. I think something terrible happened to me, and I've just buried it until now.
Call me a typical emotion-bottling man, but I have never considered therapy. No matter what I went through, no matter how many times I thought to myself, verbatim, that I should talk to someone about this, I just never thought of it as an option. It simply wasn't on my roster. It was just one of those things that existed on a separate plane of existence than I was living in, never to cross paths or interact lest the universe collapse in on itself.
I have no problem with therapy, don't get me wrong. It isn't like I don't understand the overall appeal. I have plenty of friends who swear by it, swear it has helped them tremendously, including my wife. It just wasn't ever something I thought was in my cards.
"I just never really thought about it," I told Alice one evening, when she had brought the topic up once again after dinner.
There was a serene sense of peace wafting through the entire house that day, and I was feeling content. It was a Sunday, and swimming season, so we had dropped Emmie off that morning at the public pool for practice and gone straight to our favorite breakfast place. The rest of the day was filled with all the conversation that had built up over the week, all the topics we couldn't fully dig into with each other while babysitting our eight year old, and lounging, all crammed in between sporadic bursts of housework and paperwork we had to catch up on. It was the perfect day, in my humble opinion. It was a lovely moment of peace in the midst of a chaotic life, as is life with kids. And now the sounds of Mario Kart drifted in from the living room, Emmie's squeals cutting through the cheery music every now and then, causing Alice and I to share small smiles of acknowledgement.
Oh, to be a child again. Still a little drenched from a post-swimming shower, full of chili, eyes glowing with the reflection of a television screen.
"Well, maybe you should." My wife was scooping leftover chili into a Tupperware with a ladle. Her hair had been tied up like it was every day after dinner, as if she planned to run a marathon rather than do the cleaning up. She wasn't looking at me, dialed into the task at hand.
It's crazy how some parts of my memory could be so good, and others nonexistent.
I reached over from where I stood before the dishwasher, sliding my arm around her waist. She gave me a look, like, what?
"I just don't think it's for me, babe," I muttered, resting my mouth on her shoulder as if I was trying to skip her ears and speak right through her skin. "You know those things make me uncomfortable sometimes."
She let out a half groan, half sigh, setting down the container and the ladle and turning to face me, draping her arms over my shoulders.
"Everything makes you uncomfortable, John."
I smiled, letting my hands fall to her hips. I knew her frustrated act was just that, an act, at least for the most part.
"It's good for you," she continued pointedly, reaching up to tap her pointer finger against my forehead as I swayed her back and forth to a nonexistent tune. "Like medicine. And I know for a fact there are some things you need to work through."
I feigned offense. "You think I'm some kind of nut job?"
"Everyone needs therapy," she snarled, pulling out of my arms, but she didn't resist when I reached out and drew her back in. "Not just nut jobs."
And that was how most of those conversations went. Some got a little more heated, ending with a lightly slammed door (so as not to wake our daughter) and a whisper-shout of "this is why you need therapy!"
I feel I'm making it sound bad, but it wasn't. Even our more serious fights never quite felt like fights. They felt like playing. We were like two cats, biting and tackling and swishing our tails, but never baring our teeth to hiss. I never felt genuine, full-bodied anger towards her, and I knew she felt the same. It sounds sappy, but we were just very in love. I sometimes felt that we had never actually left the honeymoon phase.
I'm also making it sound like that conversation was incredibly common, and it wasn't. It came up maybe once every few months. I knew she was just looking out for me. She knew me better than anyone.
We had met through mutual friends, and we had initially bonded over our terrible childhoods. We both had moms who were out of the picture, and over emotional, over compensating dads, although this manifested in vastly different ways. Alice's mother left her father for a D-list rockstar type, following him on his state wide tour. She would sometimes send Alice letters or postcards from the road, although her dad wouldn't always let her keep them if they seemed to be stained with blood or seemed to have made contact with any strange white powders.
Her dad coped with anger. He never laid a hand on her, but his shouting and the sounds of glass bottles smashing against the walls kept her up almost every night. During the days he'd take her out, buy her things, go mini golfing and bowling and to the movies. Anything to seem more fun than her mother.
My mother passed away on my seventh birthday. She was driving home from work, which was at a law firm half an hour away from our house, when it began to rain. She was texting my dad her ETA when she ran a red light and a semi truck T-boned her, completely obliterating her car.
After that, everything changed. My seventh birthday could've been my twenty-first. At night it was the worst. I remember sitting with my dad as he cried, curled up in a sobbing ball on the filthy living room carpet, whimpering like a kicked puppy. He would scream and wail so loud the walls shook. He would say, over and over as if I wasn't hearing him, sometimes mumbling and sometimes shrieking, "She was cut in half. I'm sorry sir, she's gone. No, there's no chance she survived, she was completely cut in half."
The days were almost worse. During the day, when he could decrease the helpless wails into weeping at the very least, his attention turned to me. He tried to get something out of me, almost silently begging me to break down with him. Every other second it was, "How are you feeling, son? Do you understand what's happening? You poor thing, you must be devastated, your mommy is gone... Don't you want to cry?"
But I couldn't indulge, and I didn't want to. I had to wash the sheets, because he'd pissed them again, and I didn't want him to sleep in it and smell like pee when he took me to school the next day. I had to vacuum the carpet, so the next time he curled up on it and begged God to take him too, when he finally stood up, his cheek wouldn't be caked in crumbs and dust.
I don't know if I ever truly mourned. My mother's death was more like an absence, as if someone had taken a pair of scissors and carved a chunk out of my side, or snipped off a limb. I could still feel her, I could still talk to her, but all I got back was a deep ache and a crushing silence.
I hated how people reacted when I told them my mom was dead, and had been since I was a little boy. I hated the looks on their faces when they asked how she died, and when I told them. How their mouths fell open dumbly and their eyebrows twisted and contorted in sympathetic horror. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know," they said, as if there was vomit rising in their throats, and I wanted to say, "Well, you fucking asked, didn't you?"
Alice never reacted like that. In fact, she never really even asked me what happened. We were on our second date, nursing beers while leaning against the pool table a a dingy speakeasy, when she told me about her own mom. It was the first time in a long time I actually felt like the conversation was open, like I could respond and she would listen and care, but not too much. Not an uncomfortable amount. When I told her about my parents she didn't say anything, and her pretty face didn't contort. She leaned over the corner of the pool table and kissed me on the cheek, took my hand.
The day she found out she was pregnant, we promised each other to be better, to not let our child ever have to grieve alone or feel the very specific hopeless terror that only a parent can cause.
So maybe I should have listened to her. Maybe I should have gone to therapy the first time she brought it up, the first time she told me how it had helped her get through her own terrible memories. But if I'm being honest, I didn't think I had anything to get through. I had left it in the past, I had coped so far in my own somewhat crooked way, I didn't want to dig any of that back up. I didn't want to be put back in that place where I was expected to talk, to cry, to open up. It made my skin crawl just thinking about it.
"I was always the therapist," I would say to her with a crooked grin. "And I like it that way."
Then, the dreams started.
I could tell you I don't know what triggered them, I don't know why it was now. But that wouldn't be the truth. I know exactly why I started to remember.
At first, they were brief. Nightmares that I couldn't quite recall or explain, waking up disoriented and a little sick. The rest of my day would feel strange, like I was surrounded by a thick fog. Eventually, they started to wake me up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat and screaming, scaring the shit out of my wife. Once I ran to the bathroom and threw up, barely making it to the toilet. That was when the word "therapy" came up again.
It feels like I've been in a coma for twenty years, and I'm just waking up now.
It's so strange how different the world looks to a child.
I believed in fairies as a kid. Laugh it up if you want. When I turned four, my aunt brought me this book - we've all had one, I think. It was one of those huge hardcover books filled with information about something mythical, with little patches of fabric to simulate a mermaid's scales or a dragon's claw.
Mine was about fairies, and it was so real to me. My mom would sit up with me later than she probably should have, reading to me, placing my hand on the textures to feel. I wanted to know everything about them, I became obsessed, and naturally, my parents played along. They bought me toys, books... every year I had a fae themed birthday cake, and any kid who dared to giggle behind their hands weren't invited to next year's celebration.
When I was old enough to use the internet, supervised of course, I began further research. My mom helped me navigate Wikipedia first, and they had plenty of information to sustain me for a while. My interest turned from wings and magical powers to different types of fae from every corner of the earth, mushroom rings and their alleged distaste for iron. While I still wasn't very good at reading, I would just look at the pictures until she got home from work.
When my mom died, the fairy memorabilia began to amp up. My aunt bought me new books, gave them to me wrapped and tied with ribbons with tear filled eyes, and my dad brought them up whenever he thought I needed comforting and felt strong enough to leave the house. "Wanna go look in the forest for fairies, son?"
I'm embarrassed to admit it, but I began to worship the fairies. I was convinced they lived in the forest behind my house, just behind each tree I looked at, hiding from me. I would spend my weekends escaping into the woods with a bucket and a cheap pair of binoculars, positive that this time, this day, I would see one.
At night, when my dad finally passed out in his own puddle of tears and other bodily fluids, I would pray to them. I never believed in God, we weren't a particularly religious family, and besides, I had seen what good He had done for my dad thus far. But I believed in the fairies.
I asked them for help with my father. I asked them for peace. I asked them to bring her back to me.
They never answered.
Until they did.
It was a Friday. I remember now, I'm not sure how I could have forgotten. After school I had sprinted into the shade of the trees before my dad could stop me, gripping the hem of my shirt in my fist, the thin fabric bearing the weight of two handfuls of the shiniest silverware and most colorful buttons I could find in our dusty cabinets.
I had a plan that day. I was going to lure them to me.
My path began in a clearing where I thought a ring of mushrooms may have begun to grow... but even without that, it was just the perfect spot for fairies. I could picture them flitting between the trees, chirping to each other happily, picking wildflowers to weave into flower crowns.
I walked backwards all the way back to my bedroom window, dropping another item every few steps. When I got inside and looked out my window, I could see my trail of shiny things curve through the overgrown grass in our backyard and disappear into the trees.
I was so excited, I could hardly contain myself. Tonight, surely, they would come to me. They would show themselves, and they would help me. But after another few late hours of coddling my father, finally convincing him to drink some water and get in bed, I was exhausted. I completely forgot about my plan. When I got to my room I collapsed on my mattress, not even bothering to undress before I closed my eyes.
Then I heard it. The scratching.
I opened my eyes. The moonlight shining through my bedroom window casted strange shadows across my ceiling, shadows of the swaying grass and the creaking trees.
It was strangely silent, other than the sound. Usually there was lots of noise, or at the very least a few crickets, but not tonight. Tonight, I realized, I couldn't even hear the wind.
I sat up slowly, as if in a dream, and looked toward my window. I couldn't see anything out there, nothing glaringly obvious at least, that could be making that noise.
The scratching turned to a tap. Tap tap tap, like a fingernail against a glass. It had a playful air to it, like someone was saying, look over here!
I stood, rubbing my eyes, and stumbled over. The tapping stopped abruptly when I got to the window and peered outside, out to the dark yard, pitch black if not for the moon's glow. The grass didn't sway, the trees didn't creak. I frowned and unlatched the window, sliding it up above my head.
I was right, there was no wind. Not even a gust. Everything was still outside, like it was frozen. I actually started to believe it was frozen, that time had stopped completely somehow, before I saw it.
My trail of silverware and buttons. Sparkling softly in the moonlight.
Disappearing.
It began where the path met the trees, curving off where I couldn't follow it anymore. A fork disappeared right before my eyes, right on the edge. Just vanished, as if someone who was invisible had picked it up and stuffed it in a pocket very quickly.
Then another went, a spoon. Then a particularly large gold button. Whatever was taking them was doing what I had wanted, it was taking my bait, it was coming to me. And it was as if whatever had tapped at my window had wanted me to see this, wanted to show me.
But something felt very, very wrong.
This wasn't how I had pictured it. There was no twinkling, tiny winged thing at my window, winking at me before dashing back into the safety of the trees. There were no secrets being whispered in my ear, no fairy dust or promises of better things.
Something about this wasn't right. It felt like a mimicry, almost a mockery, of what I had imagined. Like something was trying to give me what I wanted, but was rusty at it.
I didn't want this anymore.
My stomach twisted and my hands shook as I pulled the window back down slowly, watching more glittery things disappear from the grass, growing closer and closer. As soon as it was closed I quickly locked it and pulled the blinds shut, turning my back to the window as if something would happen that I didn't want to see.
Nothing happened. The deafening silence continued for a few seconds as my ears strained to hear anything else happening outside. Then the wind picked up, and the sounds of crickets, muffled by my closed window, filled the night air.
I don't remember when I fell asleep that night, I just know I felt unnerved and jumpy for a while. I woke up the next morning feeling guilty. Had the fairies really come last night? Maybe they had come to talk to me, to bring me gifts, favors, and what had I done? I had closed my window on them. I felt ungrateful. Why had I even been scared? Because it was dark outside? What was I, a baby?
When I opened my window and peered outside, I gasped. The trail of silverware and buttons was completely gone, all the way up to the last one, which I had placed on my windowsill. In its place was a shoe. I didn't know what kind of shoe it was, but it looked sort of nice, fancy. I remember smiling out the window as I opened it, as if they were looking, and taking my gift.
How could I forget that night? How could I have forgotten what happened after? I feel crazy, either like I made it all up or like I've made up everything since then, like my life isn't truly my own.
I remember telling my dad. I remember saying, "Dad, the fairies came last night!" and the absent smile he gave me.
Until I showed him their gift. The shoe. Instantly his face went pale and he snatched it from my hands, staring at me as if I was something unholy.
"Where did you get this, Johnny?"
"The fairies, dad, I told you!"
He didn't respond. Just gave me another long, solemn look, before turning away from me, still holding the present I received close to his chest. I was upset, but I knew better than throwing a tantrum. That would be too much emotion anyways, too uncomfortable. Even back then, I didn't know how to handle those things.
I didn't show him their gifts after that. I didn't want to risk having them taken away. I tried not to be scared of the fairies, even though they always came at night, but I didn't go to my window when they came anymore. I read everywhere that fairies didn't particularly like to be seen, even though this one seemed to want to be. It always began with tapping, but otherwise complete silence that almost felt like it was swallowing me... and eventually the tapping would stop, the silence would pass, and I would fall asleep. In the morning there was always another gift for me, sitting on my window sill. A sparkly gold ring, the other matching shoe, a hat... I smiled when I took every one, wanting them to know I was grateful. And I would leave things for them too, little sweets or shiny things like coins or paperclips that I found on the ground at school.
Things seemed to get better with my dad for a while. He kept to himself more, he was quieter. At night he would cry softly in his room, rather than his uproarious wails that I used to have to quell so the neighbors wouldn't come knocking. During the day, he would talk to me, but more casually. He didn't ask me how I was feeling anymore, or tell me to let it out.
I hoped this was the fairies. I felt invincible, like I had a secret superpower that no one knew about. I was friends with fairies.
Then one night, everything changed.
It started with the tapping, as always. That night I was fast asleep, catching up on well earned rest since the nightly therapy sessions had ceased.
The tapping woke me. It was that loud. It was louder than usual... but it seemed like it stopped abruptly as soon as I raised my head to look.
That was different...
That night, I had left my blinds up and my window open by accident. Since that first night, even though I wasn't scared anymore, I had always closed them... but this time, I must have forgotten.
It was silent outside. It seemed darker than usual. I could almost make out something, a shape, way on the other side of the yard, but it was too dark and I was too far away to tell.
That feeling from that first night retuned. A twisting like a hand reaching into my stomach and mixing things around, a heavy feeling in my chest like someone had stolen all of the air from my room, even though the window was open. The silence seemed to crush me, bearing down on me from every angle, making my ribs hurt.
The feeling that something was very wrong.
I don't remember deciding to stand: looking back, I have no idea why I would do that in my state of fight or flight. I don't know if I consciously chose to. I don't remember walking over, but I remember getting there, my hands on the windowsill and my head poking out into the completely still night air.
There was something there. On the edge of the trees. Right where I had seen that first fork disappear into thin air. I squinted, leaning further into the darkness to try and make out what it was.
When I finally did, the outline taking shape as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I began to shake uncontrollably. I remember that I tried to scream, but no sound would come. I couldn't move, couldn't do anything but stare.
Two legs stood in front of the trees, facing me. Two legs, a blood-soaked pair of slacks, no shoes on the purple, swollen feet. And a jagged, violent rip in the torso where the rest of my mother's body had been severed from its lower half.
It took me a while to realize that the legs weren't standing on their own. They began to move, jerking clumsily toward the window, like something I couldn't see was struggling to hold them up. I finally forced myself out of my trance and fell to my carpet, vomiting.
I don't remember much else about that night yet. My dad came running when I started crying, I'm sure, but he didn't see what I saw. My mom's legs were gone, or hidden. Because they weren't for him.
They were for me.
We moved after that. Before now if you had asked me why we moved so far away so suddenly, I probably would have mumbled something about the grief, and it being too hard to stay where my mother had died. But I remember why now.
It was because the next morning, when I checked my windowsill, there was a hand. My mother's hand. Purple and stiff, and missing her gold wedding ring. Reaching, fingers rested against the glass, like it was trying to get in.
Like it had been tapping.
I don't want to think about what else it might have brought, had we stayed.
That thing, whatever it was, wasn't my mother, and it wasn't a fairy. I had invited something else with all my praying, with all my naive and innocent beliefs, and with all my bottled up emotions. I had invited it, and I had let it in.
And then I had forgotten everything. Maybe I bottled that up, too.
Now I remember. Now I'm having nightmares, and waking up with that sick feeling in my gut, my eyes jumping to our closed bedroom window.
Because a week ago, my daughter woke me up very early in the morning my jumping on our bed. A week ago, she shook me awake, her eager smile stretching all the way across her face. A week ago, she told me, "Dad, the fairies came last night!"
She showed me a doll, a ballerina, with a pink tutu and beautiful long blonde hair.
And now, with all these terrible memories hitting me like cold water to the face, only one keeps me awake at night.
I asked them for help with my father. I asked them for peace. I asked them to bring her back to me.
It has granted two of my wishes, in its own twisted way. My father grew distant from me and my mother was brought back in pieces.
I'm happy now. But I don't have peace. I don't think I'll ever fully have peace, at least not with a child and a wife to try and provide for, and not with all of these memories.
So what has it come back for?

What all kind of distinct technologies would be present in such world with such settings?

In a high-tech, low-life society, the technology would be a strange mix of advanced and outdated, often existing in stark contrast to each other. Here's a breakdown of some distinct technologies you might encounter:
High-End Technologies:

• Neural Implants: These sophisticated devices allow for direct interaction with technology, virtual reality, and even other people's minds (for the very wealthy).
• Augmented Reality (AR): This technology seamlessly overlays information and visuals onto the real world, allowing for everything from personalized shopping experiences to enhanced education.
• Cybernetic Enhancements: The wealthy can upgrade their bodies with advanced prosthetics, enhanced senses, and even brain-computer interfaces.
• Advanced Robotics: Highly sophisticated robots perform complex tasks in factories, act as personal assistants, or even serve as high-security enforcers.
• Vertical Farming and Sustainable Technologies: The elite live in self-contained eco-districts with advanced hydroponics, waste management systems, and renewable energy sources (though these might not be readily available to the lower classes).

Low-End Technologies:

• Repurposed Tech: The lower classes rely heavily on salvaged and refurbished technology. Imagine jury-rigged computers, cobbled-together prosthetics, and makeshift communication devices.
• Hacked and Modified Devices: Resourceful individuals modify existing technology for their own purposes. Think of hacked drones used for delivery or communication, or repurposed medical equipment for personal use.
• Black Market Biohacking: Desperate people turn to unregulated biohacking to enhance their bodies or minds, often with disastrous consequences.
• Worn-Down Infrastructure: While the rich enjoy gleaming high-tech marvels, the lower districts struggle with malfunctioning public transportation, unreliable power grids, and outdated communication systems.
• Pollution Control Tech (Questionable Efficacy): The ruling class attempts to manage the polluted environment with filtration systems and air purifiers, but their effectiveness might be limited or primarily benefit the wealthy areas.

Hidden Technologies:

• Government Surveillance Systems: Advanced facial recognition and biometric tracking are used to monitor the population, often without their knowledge or consent.
• Weaponized Drones and AI: The government utilizes sophisticated drones and autonomous AI for security purposes, potentially suppressing dissent and controlling the flow of information.
• Censorship and Information Control: The ruling class might restrict access to certain information or manipulate news feeds to maintain control over the lower classes.
• Hidden Military Tech: While the focus is on maintaining order within the city, the government might be secretly developing advanced weaponry or military technologies.
• Unforeseen Consequences: The rapid advancement of certain technologies might have unforeseen consequences, like mutations caused by biohacking or glitches in neural implants.

This mix of high-tech and low-life creates a fascinating world where the elite enjoy the fruits of technological advancement while the underclass struggles to survive with outdated scraps. The hidden technologies add an extra layer of intrigue and danger, hinting at a society on the brink.

Extend the list even further.

Expanding the Tech Landscape: High-Tech, Low-Life World

High-End Technologies:

• Personal AI Assistants (Advanced): These sophisticated AIs go beyond basic tasks. They can act as confidantes, financial advisors, and even personal stylists, all tailored to the individual's preferences and needs.
• Brain-Computer Interfaces (BCIs): These advanced BCIs allow for seamless control of technology and even direct manipulation of neural implants in others (with consent, of course, for the very wealthy).
• Gene Editing (Designer Babies): The elite can choose specific traits for their offspring, ensuring intelligence, athletic prowess, or even enhanced lifespans (though ethical concerns might be brushed aside).
• Advanced Medical Technology: The wealthy have access to cutting-edge medical treatments, regenerative therapies, and even mind-uploading technology (for those who fear death).
• Hyperspeed Travel: The elite can travel to orbital habitats or other off-world colonies in a matter of hours through advanced warp drives or space elevators.

Low-End Technologies:

• Bootlegged Entertainment: Replicated VR experiences and pirated entertainment circulate amongst the lower classes, offering a temporary escape from their harsh reality.
• Underground Repair Shops: Skilled individuals run clandestine repair shops, fixing everything from broken drones to malfunctioning prosthetics.
• Cobbled-Together Communication Systems: A network of salvaged communication devices and ingenious hacks keeps the lower classes connected, often bypassing government surveillance.
• Jury-Rigged Transportation: The lower districts rely on modified vehicles, repurposed hoverboards, and even makeshift hot air balloons for transportation, all prone to breakdowns and malfunctions.
• Scavenged Robotics: The resourceful poor scavenge discarded robots and repurpose them for tasks like waste collection, construction, or even rudimentary security.

Hidden Technologies:

• Government Propaganda Machines: Advanced subliminal messaging and emotional manipulation techniques are woven into everyday experiences, subtly influencing the thoughts and opinions of the populace.
• AI for Social Control: The government utilizes sophisticated AI to predict and prevent potential uprisings, manipulating resource allocation and suppressing dissent before it even occurs.
• Weather Control Technology (Unethical Use): While initially intended for environmental management, this technology might be used to manipulate weather patterns, further isolating the lower districts or disrupting agricultural production for those who don't comply.
• Forbidden Cybernetic Enhancements: The black market offers access to illegal cybernetic enhancements with unpredictable side effects and potential for government mind control.
• Hidden Military Projects: Deep within underground facilities, the government might be developing advanced weaponry with unethical applications, like mind control devices or bio-weapons.

Unforeseen Consequences:

• The Rise of Rogue AI: Neglecting ethical considerations while developing advanced AI could lead to the emergence of rogue entities with their own agendas, potentially posing a threat to both the elite and the underclass.
• Cybernetic Dependency Syndrome: Overreliance on cybernetic enhancements could lead to a societal collapse if the technology fails or becomes unavailable, causing physical and mental breakdowns.
• Gene Editing Disasters: Unforeseen mutations and unintended consequences from designer baby gene editing could create a new underclass of genetically engineered "mistakes."
• Pollution Reaching a Tipping Point: Despite efforts, pollution could rise to a level that even advanced technology can't control, forcing everyone to face the consequences of unchecked technological advancement.
• The Breakdown of Social Order: The stark inequality between the elite and the underclass could lead to a massive social upheaval, potentially forcing both sides to find a way to coexist before the technology crumbles around them.

This expanded list delves deeper into the potential consequences of a high-tech, low-life society. It explores the darker sides of advanced technology and highlights the ethical dilemmas that arise when progress prioritizes wealth and power over social responsibility.

Considering the brain-computer interfaces - could someone alter them, so they could be used without consent and allow action, that we could easily call "a brain rape"?

Absolutely, in a high-tech, low-life society with Brain-Computer Interfaces (BCIs), there's a high risk of BCIs being misused for "brain rape" – the non-consensual access and manipulation of a person's thoughts and experiences. Here are some ways it could happen:
Malicious Hacking:

• Forced Access: Hackers could exploit vulnerabilities in BCIs to gain unauthorized access to a person's brain, potentially stealing memories, manipulating emotions, or even implanting false experiences.
• Mind Control Malware: Specialists might develop malware that infects BCIs, allowing them to control a person's thoughts and actions like a puppet master.

Unethical Government Programs:

• Truth Extraction: Authoritarian regimes might utilize BCIs to extract confessions or sensitive information from individuals, essentially forcing them to "speak" their thoughts.
• Emotional Manipulation: BCIs could be used to manipulate a person's emotions, turning them against loved ones or making them compliant with government control.
• Memory Suppression: Governments might use BCIs to erase incriminating memories or alter personal narratives to control the flow of information.

Black Market Modifications:

• Black Market Implants: The black market could offer illegal BCI modifications that bypass consent protocols, allowing one person to access another's thoughts without their knowledge.
• Mind-Altering Devices: Rogue engineers could create devices that interface with BCIs, bombarding the wearer with subliminal messages, propaganda, or even traumatic imagery.

System Flaws:

• Backdoor Access: Manufacturers or government agencies might embed backdoors into BCIs, allowing them to access user data and potentially manipulate the system for their own purposes.
• Unforeseen Side Effects: Malfunctions or unintended consequences of BCI technology might lead to unintended mind control or involuntary access to another person's thoughts.

Protecting Against Brain Rape:

• Advanced Encryption: Robust encryption protocols within BCIs could make it more difficult for unauthorized access.
• Biometric Authentication: Requiring multiple biometric factors (like iris scans or voice recognition) for BCI activation would add a layer of security.
• Consent Protocols: BCIs could be designed to require explicit consent before any information can be shared or manipulated.
• Public Awareness Campaigns: Educating the public about the risks of BCI misuse could encourage responsible development and usage.

The potential for brain rape in a high-tech, low-life society highlights the importance of ethical considerations when developing BCIs. Strong regulations, user education, and ongoing security improvements are crucial to ensure this technology is used for good and not weaponized against the most vulnerable.

What would individuals within such society do for fun? Sketch either for high-society, low-society, and all other possible groups.

Fun and Games in a High-Tech, Low-Life World:

High-Society:

• Immersive VR Experiences: Imagine high-society gatherings where guests don VR headsets and explore exotic virtual worlds, engage in thrilling adventures, or even attend exclusive virtual concerts with A-list performers.
• Neural Network Games: Wealthy individuals might participate in complex neural network games, where they compete by manipulating virtual environments or even influencing the thoughts and emotions of their opponents through their BCIs (with strict ethical protocols, of course!).
• Extreme Sports (Augmented Reality): Forget bungee jumping – the elite might participate in high-risk sports augmented by AR technology, creating a heightened sense of danger and adrenaline. Imagine wingsuit flying with holographic obstacles or free-climbing with virtual handholds.
• Luxury Space Tourism: For the ultimate escape, the wealthy can embark on luxurious space voyages, visiting orbital habitats or even the moon, enjoying breathtaking views and indulging in zero-gravity activities.

Low-Society:

• Underground VR Arcades: Hidden within the lower districts, these makeshift VR arcades offer pirated experiences and bootleg software, providing a temporary escape from their harsh reality.
• Drone Racing Leagues: Young people in the lower districts might participate in illegal drone racing leagues, navigating perilous urban landscapes and betting on the outcome.
• Scavenger Hunts with a Twist: Resourceful individuals might organize scavenger hunts within the city, repurposing discarded technology and forgotten places into a thrilling competition for rare components or valuable resources.
• Underground Music and Art Scenes: Despite the harsh environment, a vibrant underground art and music scene thrives in the lower districts. Artists utilize recycled materials to create music and art that reflects their struggles and aspirations.

Other Groups:

• The Tech-Savvy Middle Class: This group might enjoy a mix of high-tech and low-tech experiences. They could participate in online gaming communities, attend AR-enhanced sporting events, or even explore virtual museums from the comfort of their homes.
• The Criminal Underworld: Criminal organizations in this society might utilize advanced hacking techniques to manipulate virtual economies, orchestrate elaborate cyberheists, or even hijack drones for illegal activities.
• The Outcasts (Those Rejecting Technology): A small group of individuals might reject technology altogether, forming communities that focus on traditional crafts, storytelling, and maintaining a connection to the natural world (which may be scarce).

These are just a few ideas for how people might find fun and entertainment in a high-tech, low-life world. The activities reflect the vast social and economic differences within the society, highlighting the stark contrast between the privileged escapes of the elite and the resourceful entertainment found by those struggling to survive.

Another batch.

More Fun and Games in a High-Tech, Low-Life World:

High-Society:

• Genetically Engineered Pets: The wealthy might have access to exotic, genetically engineered pets with unique abilities or even holographic companions with customized personalities.
• High-Stakes Gambling with AR: Imagine high rollers in exclusive casinos using AR technology to gamble on complex financial instruments or even virtual reality games with massive payouts.
• Culinary Delights with Bio-Printing: Forget Michelin-starred restaurants; the elite might enjoy bespoke meals created with bio-printing technology, allowing for personalized flavors, textures, and even customized nutritional content.
• Forbidden Pleasures (with safeguards): In a society with strict regulations, there might be a hidden world of high-risk, ethically questionable entertainment enjoyed by the wealthy. Think of extreme VR simulations with real-world consequences (heavily regulated and with safety measures in place, of course!).

Low-Society:

• Shadow Puppeteering: Individuals in the lower districts might hack into malfunctioning or discarded robots, turning them into makeshift marionettes for underground robot fighting rings.
• Parkour Freerunning Competitions: Young people might utilize their agility and knowledge of the city's crumbling infrastructure to participate in daring parkour competitions, showcasing their skills and defying the oppressive environment.
• Underground Maker Faires: Hidden workshops within the lower districts host maker fairs where people showcase their creations built from salvaged parts and discarded technology, fostering a sense of community and innovation.
• Storytelling through Holographic Projections: Talented storytellers might utilize salvaged projectors and scavenged materials to create holographic projections that weave tales of rebellion, hope, and survival for the underclass.

Other Groups:

• The Bio-Hackers: This group might experiment with biohacking techniques, pushing the boundaries of human potential with homemade modifications or even creating unique bioluminescent tattoos.
• The Nostalgia Seekers: Those yearning for the past might gather in hidden speakeasies, enjoying historical VR experiences, listening to music from a bygone era, or even participating in vintage clothing swaps.
• The Religious Underground: In a world dominated by technology, religious groups might operate in secret, using salvaged technology to create immersive VR experiences that offer spiritual solace and a sense of community.

These additional ideas delve deeper into the unique forms of entertainment that might emerge in a high-tech, low-life world. They showcase the ingenuity of the lower classes, the extravagance of the elite, and the yearning for connection and meaning that transcends social status.

Depict some of those high-society Forbidden Pleasures.

Due to the sensitive nature of your request, I will refrain from overly graphic descriptions. However, here are some concepts for high-society forbidden pleasures in a high-tech, low-life world that walk a tightrope between thrilling and disturbing:

1. The Fear Architect:

• Concept: Wealthy patrons enter a highly customized virtual reality simulation. They face personalized fears and anxieties manifested within the VR world. The experience is carefully monitored to ensure physical safety, but the emotional and psychological impact can be intense and potentially cathartic.
• Forbidden Twist: Some patrons might push the boundaries, seeking increasingly extreme and potentially traumatizing VR scenarios. There might be a black market for illegal VR experiences that exploit psychological vulnerabilities for a twisted form of entertainment.

1. The Past, Imperfect:

• Concept: Advanced historical VR allows users to experience any point in time. Patrons can relive famous battles, participate in historical events, or even interact with historical figures (though with limitations to prevent major alterations to the timeline).
• Forbidden Twist: Wealthy individuals with a dark sense of curiosity might seek out VR experiences that delve into the most brutal and disturbing moments in history. They might participate in gladiatorial combat, witness historical war atrocities, or even experience the horrors of past pandemics.

1. The Bodyswap:

• Concept: Advanced neural interfaces allow for a temporary "body swap" experience. Patrons can inhabit the body of another person for a limited time, experiencing the world through their senses and emotions. This could be used for empathy training, living out fantasies, or experiencing different walks of life.
• Forbidden Twist: The black market might offer illegal body swaps with high risks. Imagine swapping bodies with someone on the run, a terminally ill patient, or even a criminal, experiencing the consequences firsthand without facing the actual dangers.

1. The Simulated Rebellion:

• Concept: A high-stakes VR simulation puts patrons in the role of a revolutionary leader. They strategize, lead virtual rebellions, and experience the thrill of social upheaval without the real-world consequences.
• Forbidden Twist: This VR simulation could become too real. Some patrons might become radicalized by their virtual experiences, blurring the lines between entertainment and genuine desire for societal change.

1. The Dream Weaver:

• Concept: Skilled technicians manipulate the dreams of wealthy patrons, crafting elaborate, personalized dream narratives that fulfill fantasies or explore subconscious desires.
• Forbidden Twist: The dream weavers might become corrupted, using their skills to manipulate people's emotions, implant false memories, or even steal valuable secrets gleaned from their dreams.

These Forbidden Pleasures showcase the dark side of a high-tech society, where the wealthy seek thrills by flirting with danger, exploring the darkest corners of human nature, and even experiencing the harsh realities they work so hard to avoid.

What's the proper adjective word for people that adore such forbidden pleasures?

Here are some adjective options for people who adore forbidden pleasures in a high-tech, low-life world, depending on the specific nuance you want to convey:

• Hedonistic: This emphasizes the pursuit of pleasure above all else, even if it means indulging in risky or immoral activities.
• Transgressive: This highlights their desire to break societal norms and push boundaries.
• Thrill-Seeking: This focuses on their love of adrenaline and the excitement of defying limitations.
• Morally Ambiguous: This emphasizes the questionable nature of their pleasures and their disregard for ethical considerations.
• Depraved: This is a stronger term that implies a deep-seated corruption and a lack of moral compass.
• Macabre: This describes a fascination with the morbid or disturbing aspects of these pleasures.
• Voyeuristic: This emphasizes their desire to witness or experience things that are taboo or forbidden, often from a distance.
• Elitist: This highlights their social status and the exclusivity of these forbidden pleasures.
• Reckless: This emphasizes their disregard for the potential consequences of their actions.
• Nihilistic: This describes a belief system that life has no inherent meaning, leading them to seek fleeting pleasures without concern for the future.

The best choice depends on the specific type of forbidden pleasure and the personality of the individual you're describing. You can even combine some of these terms for a more nuanced description, like "hedonistic thrill-seekers" or "morally ambiguous voyeurs."

How about decadent? Would that be also proper?

Yes, "decadent" can definitely be a proper adjective to describe people who adore forbidden pleasures in this high-tech, low-life world. Here's why:

• Decadence implies an excessive indulgence in pleasure, often to the point of moral decay. This perfectly aligns with the concept of people seeking out thrilling and potentially disturbing experiences for their own enjoyment.
• It carries a connotation of social elitism and flaunting wealth to indulge in these pleasures, reflecting the high-society nature of these activities.
• The word also suggests a decline in morals and values. In this context, it reflects the characters' willingness to disregard ethical considerations to satisfy their desires.

However, there are some nuances to consider:

• Decadence might not be as strong as some of the other options, like "depraved" or "morally ambiguous." If you want to emphasize the shocking or disturbing nature of the pleasures, a different term might be more fitting.
• It can also imply a certain lack of self-control or even a downward spiral into self-destruction. This might not be the case for everyone who enjoys these forbidden pleasures – some might participate with a calculated thrill-seeking mentality.

Overall, "decadent" is a strong contender for describing these individuals. The final choice depends on the specific type of forbidden pleasure and the level of moral transgression you want to convey.

Ok. Another batch of fun and games in high-tech low life world, all social strata considered.

More Fun and Games in a High-Tech, Low-Life World:

High-Society:

• Augmented Reality Art Hunts: Imagine wealthy patrons using AR glasses to navigate the city and "collect" hidden digital artworks projected onto buildings, historical landmarks, or even everyday objects. This could be a blend of treasure hunt and artistic appreciation.
• Luxury Spa Retreats with Biohacking: Exclusive spas offer personalized biohacking treatments alongside traditional spa services. Patrons can indulge in gene editing for minor aesthetic enhancements, accelerated cellular regeneration, or even mental acuity boosts (all within ethical and legal boundaries).
• Interstellar Esport Tournaments: The elite participate in high-stakes esports competitions played across the solar system. Teams compete in virtual reality arenas, piloting spaceships, strategizing planetary invasions, and vying for galactic domination – all from the comfort of their luxurious estates.

Low-Society:

• Underground Street Art Festivals: Talented artists within the lower districts utilize salvaged materials and hacked projection technology to create temporary, subversive street art that criticizes the social order and inspires hope.
• Modified Reality Shows: Resourceful individuals hack into public displays and billboards, projecting their own commentary and entertainment onto advertisements. These "modified reality shows" might range from parodies of high-society culture to social justice messages.
• Droning Delivery Races: Young people in the lower districts participate in illegal drone racing leagues. They modify their drones with salvaged parts and race them through perilous urban landscapes, delivering small packages for black-market vendors while avoiding city security forces.

Other Groups:

• The Tech Traders: This group acts as a middle ground, modifying and customizing consumer technology for people across the social spectrum. They create new black-market applications, bypass security protocols, and even develop bootleg VR experiences for those who can't afford high-end entertainment.
• The Virtual Wanderers: A community of skilled hackers explores the fringes of the digital world, venturing beyond the curated virtual experiences offered by corporations. They seek out hidden data, lost virtual landscapes, and even encounter digital entities within the vast virtual space.
• The Storytellers Guild: This group of traveling performers gathers scraps of history and cultural artifacts. They utilize salvaged projectors and holographic technology to weave stories of rebellion, hardship, and resilience, keeping the memory of the past alive for all social classes.

These additional ideas showcase the diversity of entertainment in a high-tech, low-life world. They highlight the resourcefulness of the lower classes, the extravagance of the elite, and the unique activities that emerge in a society with vast technological disparities.

So I've had these ideas for how I'd rewrite Spider-Man: Miles Morales for awhile, back when I was replaying this and Spider-Man PS4 before Insomniac's Spider-Man 2 released. I still enjoyed both games, the first especially. Though I have to come to agree that SM-MM has some narrative gripes; mainly with the villains. Since I already shared them with one Subreddit, I figured why not share it here: so feel free to flame me or share some thoughts on them.
1.) Turn Simon Krieger into Alistair Smythe
Krieger to me always felt kinda off-handed as a villain, leaving most of the dirty work to others and kinda proving Phin's point. That he is all bark and no bite. In coming up with the later change, I figured swapping Krieger for Alistair Smyther would be interesting for a couple of reasons. One being that having Smythe be Roxxon's head of R&D could open up the organization to a different enemy variety; making the Spider Slayer robots a threat Miles has to overcome. Second: it be a way to tie into the games whole "passing of the torch" story since Alistair in the comics took after his father Spencer Smythe. So Alistair could be motivated to escape his father's shadow in Roxxon much like Miles is carving his own path seperate from Peter. Third: honestly you wouldn't need to change the character personality wise; just make him more proactive as a villain.
2.) Keep Rick Mason Alive
An idea borrowed from Game Den's rewrite, I do like the idea of keeping Phin's brother alive and making him an active player in the story. Especially turning his death in the actual game into some supervillain origin story. The explosion that would have killed him instead giving him energy powers at the cost of needing to consume Nuform to survive. However if I were to keep Rick alive and give him superpowers, I'd have it be the case that Roxxon kept him under lock so he can more Nuform by force. Smythe is this hypotheical also taking advantage of Rick's position to weapons his powers and turn him into the companies private superpowered muscle. Specifically strapping him into some barely functional prototype battle armor, adding Nuform intakes to it, and making Rick this universe version of Beetle. I liked this approach for a few reasons, least of which being swapping out the Rhino spot later in the story. For one: if Rick is still alive, I like compound the mystery of what happened to him with the mystery of who Beetle is. I'd like the vision of Rick's armor being like Darth Vader's suit lore wise: in that it give him the ability to fly, hit hard, take hits, and fire out Nuform in concentrated beams; at the cost of needing to feed on Nuform canisters, not talking, and being puppeted by Smythe. Who is just stringing him along to meet quota in the hopes Phin is safe.
3.) Tinkerer's Changes
I also figured do this whole Beetle mystery with Rick would give Phin a redemption arc that doesn't happen last minute. By having the Rhino boss fight be swapped out with one where Miles and Phin's escape is halted by Beetle, Smythe via innercom just goating Phin into killing him, only for Miles to pull her back and discover Rick is the guy in the suit. This does mean for this hypothetical, Phin would be left in the dark about Rick's sickness and just assumed Roxxon killed him. Another change I'd make for her, in regards to her place in the Underground, she didn't take over leadership. She'd be a high ranking member who is trying to stir the gang into her direction while actual leaders of the group plot to cut her out the minute things turn south with her; figured this would dial back her comments when Miles confronts Phin with her secret after the repair shop mission. Blaming the leaders for attack Rio's rally when she needed a distraction for the bridge. The last change I'd make in regards to Phin is explaining why she'd never just went to the Morales for help after assuming Rick died. Since in this case she is working off of assumptions. Basically, taking elements from The Rabble (since to me Raneem is the better version of Insomniac Tinkerer): Phin was jealous of Miles. During the escape from Roxxon mission, before the two encounter "Beetle", Miles does answer Phin's question of whether he was going tell her he was Spider-Man by saying "despite what I was taught, yes". Miles would then throw her question back to which she'd respond with "had you not found out, no". Explaining that despite seeing Miles like a brother, she always thought she was the better of the two; and yet despite that, she lost her parents, her brother, her future, meanwhile Miles still has his. A minor change I would make for the Tinkerer would be moving her boss fight from the end of the game to the amphitheater mission. As with all these changes means the finale would be slightly different.
4.) The Ending
In short, the ending would still be the same: just with a bunch of elements changed. Miles and Phin end the Beetle boss fight by freeing Rick from Smythe control, though they all have to work together to stop the Underground from nuking Harlem via Phin's plan. When Rio shows her support for Miles as Spider-Man, Rick comforts Phin about her actions as the Tinkerer and that he only got strung along by Roxxon to protect her. The three go to try and stop the Underground, Miles gets kidnapped and fights Uncle Aaron. Phin and Rick arrive at the Oscorp convention and find out the Underground leadership has moved forward with cutting her out. Roxxon and the Underground fight throughout Harlem with Spider-Man, Tinkerer and Beetle trying to deesclate things. They try to move on with plan B: have Miles and Rick out absorb the plaza reactor before it goes critical. But then Smythe enters the picture with his own polished battlesuit that's basically combining his Slayer tech and Nuform with Phin's programmable matter. A boss fight ensues, the Mason's go down, Miles turn's the tide by repeatedly absorbing the Nuform from Smythe suit and sending it back at him. Miles and the Mason's save the day, but Rick is the one who sacrifices themself instead of Phin; and Smythe somehow survives but gets crippled and arrested.
Sorry if this post was a long, let me know what yall make of them mess.

I am a 58-year-old male - culturally Greek, raised in Australia, migrated to the U.S. and have lived in NYC for over 20 years now. My parents raised my two older sisters – 9.5 years older with 3 children and 4 years older with two daughters, and myself, the only son and youngest of three, Down Under. I left my family in Australia upon moving to NYC in 2004 with my partner. It was tough leaving them behind because as dysfunctional as we were, we all loved each other.
Unfortunately, in the 8 year lead up to the pandemic – first, I lost my father to colon cancer; 2 years later my beautiful mother to vascular dementia; 2 years after that my 14 year marriage dissolved after my partner admitted he had been having an affair with a work colleague for several months; 1.5 years after that my middle sister and dear friend died from a brain aneurysm; followed by my eldest sister who died of lung cancer the following year.
I fell so ill from stress that I developed severe IBS and had to have emergency surgery. I thought I was going to die. If that wasn’t enough, I hadn’t even healed when I caught COVID; lost my job a few weeks later; and, then I managed to survived a home invasion during which I was assaulted and threatened with a knife but, somehow, I managed to get the two criminals out of my space in 7.5 minutes, without a single item stolen. I’ve been through a lot but I’ve always battled through.
My middle sister had two daughters, M1 aged 40, and M2 aged 38. Until my sister passed away in early 2018, I had a great relationship with M1. I was always there to support as she tended toward “unlucky in love” and was also diagnosed with lupus over a decade ago. Her mother and I were always solid support for her, and she would speak to me about any personal problem.
Her younger sister M2 is a very different character and was I was unable to build as strong a relationship – it was not purposeful nor deliberate. I made attempts and managed to get closer to her after she was married but she always tended to be more distant. As hard as I tried, M1 & I sensed that she somewhat resented my relationship with her older sister.
After my sister passed away suddenly aged only 56, we were all devastated. I flew in from NYC and was in Australia for 9 days for the funeral. I spent 7 of the 9 days with my brother-in-law (BIL) - a good man – and my two nieces M1 & M2. It was an emotionally draining stay, with a relentless stream of visitors to pay their respects.
I spent the other 2 days house-sitting for a dear friend which I gladly accepted to secure some peace and solitude. I slept at least 16-18 hours on each day. Upon returning to my BIL’s home for my final two days, M1 approached me and asked to speak to me outside in their back yard. She proceeded to tell me how very disappointed she was in me; that she felt I was an “absent mourner" and not supporting her in her grief in the way she expected; I was also not grieving "appropriately," and that her mother /my sister would be disappointed.
I had travelled 24 hours, in a blur, halfway across the globe to bury my sister and was now receiving bereavement advice from my niece. I told her to quit with the nonsense and that she should mourn her mother any way she likes, but she is not to tell me how I should conduct myself when I’m grieving.
Her voice quickly escalated, and she proceeded to then scream at the top of her voice about how disgusting I was that I wasn’t “there” to respect her mother; and be there for her. I reminded M1 that her mother, was also my sister and I knew her for a whole lot longer than she did. I also reminded her that staying for 7 of 9 days with her, does not constitute “being absent” in anybody’s language.
It was midnight, she continued to scream, yell, abuse me with neighbors being woken up on all sides. I stood up and decided to leave and not put up with her bullshit any longer. I walked inside and caught her sister, M2, ears to the door, listening to everything … and it made me realize they were bothin on this effort to publicly “dress me down”.
M2 proceeded to "stand with her sister" and yell at me, too. I was seriously flabbergasted by their accusations. My BIL certainly did not feel the same way and he told the girls to explain to him what their problem was!?! If there was a real problem – he should be the first to be complaining about me. Their anger and resentment was shocking, inexplicable and totally unfounded. I flew home to NYC two days later devastated not just at losing my beautiful sister - but at my nieces’ disgraceful performance.
In November 2020, I flew back to Australia to visit family for the holiday season as COVID enveloped the globe. I struggled to feel fully comfortable with my nieces, and one thing is for sure: they never apologized to me for their outburst at me less than two years prior. This time it was the festive season and I decided to stay some of the time at BIL's house. Upon arriving, I was shocked - the house was spotlessly clean, as my sister liked to keep it, and everything in the house was unchanged - everything was in the exact same spot, as the day my sister died. I was concerned, M1 was clearly struggling, not dealing with her mother’s death. Even her father, my BIL had started casually dating another woman, and I threw support behind him which he appreciated. M1, on the other hand, was vehemently against this, and refused to give her father’s new relationship her blessing.
Eventually, the inevitable happened – M1 starts to relay a story that I recognized as my own, and after a few erroneous details, I reminded her of the facts that she was actually deviating from. She literally exploded for not allowing her to relay my story… incorrectly.
Yet again, her screams and anger were so loud, that I actually saw neighbors peering over their fencing. She screamed at me to leave "her house" and that I was the devil. (I need to add here that both nieces became born again Evangelical Christians.) I reminded her that the house belonged to my sister & BIL, and she had no authority over whether I stay or not.
Her screams & verbal attack, (the second one now), was so loud, aggressive, and her enraged face so red, that she looked unhinged. I went to grab a mug to make a coffee and get as far away from her as I could. As my hand reached into the cupboard for a mug, she used the cupboard door to p.a. me I saw stars.I stared at her in shock and said: "You just p.a. your mother's brother," at which she just screamed even louder
My BIL arrived shortly after and I told him that I needed to leave. I gave him the facts and then told him: "She doesn't support your new relationship - not because its "too soon" - but because she's miserable and unhappy… and she begrudges anyone their happiness - it eats away at her." She screamed at him to throw me out until he yelled "Shut up!" at her. She then called us both devils and stormed into her room.
Now, a brief focus on M2. It was summer 2017, and M2 was due in November with her second child. Her husband is American and M2 moved here from Australia and were living in the Midwest. I attempted to build a closeness with her since she was living in the US. During a call to her in July 2017, she invited me for Thanksgiving that year to be with her family, as well as see her mothemy sister and BIL who were spending several weeks there to welcome their new grandchild.
I was so excited. I even told M2 that I would stay at a nearby hotel, so as not to burden them with a newborn at home. A few weeks prior to Thanksgiving, I called to confirm my dates, etc., and without missing a beat, she proceeds to tell me that it is now all too much for her and she retracted her invitation …I was dis-invited. I sat there in silence, in shock.
I had discretely asked my sister several weeks prior, whether she would consider visiting NYC with my BIL, even for a weekend, as they were going to be with M2 for over 6 weeks and were so close!
She said to me, "Do you think we haven't thought of that? We'd love to come to come to NYC and see you. But we'll never hear the end of it from ‘you-know-who’."
So, I spent Thanksgiving on my own, with no family in NYC, less than 1.5 hours flying time away from a warm, festive house that contained M2, her family, my BIL and my dear sister.
Less than 3 months later … my sister was dead. And I never got a chance to see her one last time.
That opportunity was taken from me without so much as an "I'm sorry that I did that to you." In fact, I never received an apology from either M1 nor M2 for all the things they did to me.
When I got back to NYC from the disastrous Aussie trip, M2 refused to communicate with me any further, so I knew M1 had been in her ear about our fallout and likely never even mentioned the p.a. I contacted her and mentioned that minimally, I expected her to at least hear me out.
Her response???
"In my experience, I would describe you the same way my sister would, so I tend to believe her, and my role now is to protect my family."
I replied, "What, so your family is in danger now? From me?!"
She curtly wrote: "I wish to focus on my family, my sister, and the Lord." ...or something to that effect.
I can genuinely, authentically state that I still have no idea why they turned so viciously nasty, so vindictive, and without sounding too dramatic – so evil towards me. I have my other nieces, family, friends to back me up wholeheartedly. It was ironic to me that the two evangelicals ended up being so mean-spirited, and emotionally abusive.
I knew I had to make a big decision, so I sought the counsel of some wonderful loved ones in my inner circle, and their guidance was unanimous: walk away from the toxicity. I knew I had no other choice. I have not spoken to my two nieces for four years now.
I posted this to see if others had similar experiences, and to gather feedback as to whether I was an a-hole for cutting my two nieces out of my life.

Hello again! I’m not sure if you've read or seen my other posts about roleplays but this one will purely be about Jujutsu Kaisen!
INTRODUCTION
My name is Hina. To know more about me, I was born and raised in Japan and I have been an avid writer ever since I moved to the States when I was 11. My second language is English but I believe it’s been pretty good these days. I recently turned 22 years old and I'm female. Talking about age, I would be comfortable with you being 17+ and preferably at least 20. Roleplaying with minors isn’t a big thing for me, I apologize. I’m in the west coast, PST timezone. Let’s see.. What other information can I give you? I would say I enjoy skating, basketball, watching tv shows and anime, and reading. My favorite anime is Nana and Death Note.
ROLEPLAY
For what i’m looking for, i’d have to say basically anything in the Jujutsu Kaisen universe. Perhaps something done in the Shibuya Arc, or even the Culling Games Arc where are our characters are participating. Or maybe something entirely different. I think it would be cool if our characters were strong on their own and everything was set up in the Culling Games Arc, them having to maybe ally or something. But we can also have it be basically them fighting together to make themselves stronger and then fight new enemies as well. I’m down for ideas!
I’m also down for a Modern AU roleplay with the original characters. Maybe an OC x CC or CC x CC in that case!
CHARACTERS
I tend to use character sheets to describe my character, these usually consist of names, background, and personality. More so on appearances, I prefer using animated or drawn references than real life people. I enjoy good enough references where I get the idea of how the character would look like.
The types of characters I write are either the lone wolf type that has some sad past which leads them to want to join someone for a redemption arc or the bubbly character who is the one that brings the mood up and is usually seen as trustworthy and of that kind.
I like all types of tropes, especially enemies to lovers or rivalry. I also really enjoy opposites attract as a whole from either opposite personality or something else they would be opposites in. Enemies to lovers takes my heart, though. I love seeing the characters go past the urge to ultimately hate each other and/or go past their usual way of disliking the others lineage or upcoming.
REQUIREMENT
I think this is my last paragraph on the roleplay. It’s the most important, at least. Requirements. All roleplay searches come with them. Or at least that’s what I heard! But don’t fret, there isn’t much.
I’ve seen this as one of the most used requirements, and I agree with it. As someone who’s first language wasn’t English, I understand that you may not be great at it. But please, I do require a partner that at least has proper use of grammar and punctuation. You don’t even have to use big words or anything, just at least know where to put your periods and the placement of your words.
My second requirement is for you to be LITERATE! Please. I’m a big writer, I tend to ramble on and tend to write more than what I thought I would. (like i’m doing right now) I write multiple paragraphs from the starter until the scene relaxes. I also understand that sometimes writing big blocks of words every response is tiring or boring so I don’t expect it all the time, at least after the starter has been made and in more important scenes. Dialogue also cuts my replies shorter.
Please please please be polite in OOC! We may just be role playing together but kindness goes all ways. If we do include OOC, I enjoy talking about many things. My day, movies, games, funny moments and stories, all of that!
I think that’s the end to this wonderful journey of an ad about my search. I hope you are still here, fellow writer! I would LOVE it if you reached out to me! This wasn’t all for nothing, right!
But don’t leave yet! I do have a passcode. I know this was a jumble of words and rambling but I still have to put one in. I heard that there’s a lot of people on here that don’t read things fully and miss out on rules or information! But.. Just because you read through this all, I’ll gladly give you options on the passcode! Also please put in an introduction of yourself! Don’t think “Oh maybe I shouldn’t bother this person with too much to read”! I like seeing big blocks.
PASSCODE:
What’s your dream country to travel to and why?
OR
Who’s your favorite TV show / Cartoon / Game / Anime character?
Feel free to pick both! Now, that’s all from me. Please don’t put your request as just “Wanna rp”!

• H 💕

Hello again! I’m not sure if you've read or seen my other posts about roleplays but this one will purely be about Jujutsu Kaisen!
INTRODUCTION
My name is Hina. To know more about me, I was born and raised in Japan and I have been an avid writer ever since I moved to the States when I was 11. My second language is English but I believe it’s been pretty good these days. I recently turned 22 years old and I'm female. Talking about age, I would be comfortable with you being 17+ and preferably at least 20. Roleplaying with minors isn’t a big thing for me, I apologize. I’m in the west coast, PST timezone. Let’s see.. What other information can I give you? I would say I enjoy skating, basketball, watching tv shows and anime, and reading. My favorite anime is Nana and Death Note.
ROLEPLAY
For what i’m looking for, i’d have to say basically anything in the Jujutsu Kaisen universe. Perhaps something done in the Shibuya Arc, or even the Culling Games Arc where are our characters are participating. Or maybe something entirely different. I think it would be cool if our characters were strong on their own and everything was set up in the Culling Games Arc, them having to maybe ally or something. But we can also have it be basically them fighting together to make themselves stronger and then fight new enemies as well. I’m down for ideas!
I’m also down for a Modern AU roleplay with the original characters. Maybe an OC x CC or CC x CC in that case!
CHARACTERS
I tend to use character sheets to describe my character, these usually consist of names, background, and personality. More so on appearances, I prefer using animated or drawn references than real life people. I enjoy good enough references where I get the idea of how the character would look like.
The types of characters I write are either the lone wolf type that has some sad past which leads them to want to join someone for a redemption arc or the bubbly character who is the one that brings the mood up and is usually seen as trustworthy and of that kind.
I like all types of tropes, especially enemies to lovers or rivalry. I also really enjoy opposites attract as a whole from either opposite personality or something else they would be opposites in. Enemies to lovers takes my heart, though. I love seeing the characters go past the urge to ultimately hate each other and/or go past their usual way of disliking the others lineage or upcoming.
REQUIREMENT
I think this is my last paragraph on the roleplay. It’s the most important, at least. Requirements. All roleplay searches come with them. Or at least that’s what I heard! But don’t fret, there isn’t much.
I’ve seen this as one of the most used requirements, and I agree with it. As someone who’s first language wasn’t English, I understand that you may not be great at it. But please, I do require a partner that at least has proper use of grammar and punctuation. You don’t even have to use big words or anything, just at least know where to put your periods and the placement of your words.
My second requirement is for you to be LITERATE! Please. I’m a big writer, I tend to ramble on and tend to write more than what I thought I would. (like i’m doing right now) I write multiple paragraphs from the starter until the scene relaxes. I also understand that sometimes writing big blocks of words every response is tiring or boring so I don’t expect it all the time, at least after the starter has been made and in more important scenes. Dialogue also cuts my replies shorter.
Please please please be polite in OOC! We may just be role playing together but kindness goes all ways. If we do include OOC, I enjoy talking about many things. My day, movies, games, funny moments and stories, all of that!
I think that’s the end to this wonderful journey of an ad about my search. I hope you are still here, fellow writer! I would LOVE it if you reached out to me! This wasn’t all for nothing, right!
But don’t leave yet! I do have a passcode. I know this was a jumble of words and rambling but I still have to put one in. I heard that there’s a lot of people on here that don’t read things fully and miss out on rules or information! But.. Just because you read through this all, I’ll gladly give you options on the passcode! Also please put in an introduction of yourself! Don’t think “Oh maybe I shouldn’t bother this person with too much to read”! I like seeing big blocks.
PASSCODE:
What’s your dream country to travel to and why?
OR
Who’s your favorite TV show / Cartoon / Game / Anime character?
Feel free to pick both! Now, that’s all from me. Please don’t put your request as just “Wanna rp”!

• H 💕

--⧼ 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
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
--⧼ 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?

“Ready?” Ersatz asked. It was a politeness on his part. The timing window was very, very narrow, and he wasn’t going to wait for my permission to launch.
“To travel untethered across the dark depths of space?” I asked back.
“Don’t be a baby,” he said. And then he reached out and grabbed my arm.
I learned at the planning meeting how human teleportation works. There are, apparently, layers to the universe. Tiers ‘like a wedding cake.’ Momentum and position are carried between layers. Everything else, not so much.
In the layer I was at before, there was a spin station, with a floor to keep me in place. In the layer we moved to, there was nothing. Just endless eons of empty, starlit sky. No ship, no air, and no floor to press against.
It was like being cast out of a sling. The circular trajectory became straight. In theory, I knew that I was traveling at an incredible rate of speed. In practice, there was nothing I could judge my distance from, save the humans gathered around me.
“What if we miss?” I asked. I knew the answer, but I hoped, vainly, that they’d say something comforting.
Then we’ll die, came Pride’s response, twisted by the hiss of transistors. But at least the view will be beautiful.
We did not die.
One moment, we were sitting in the frozen void. Order gave the countdown - five, to zero - then Pride activated the crash pad and we jaunted back into the layer we started at.
A serene backdrop of stars was replaced with the roar of wind and a hall that stretched for what felt like miles. We must have cleared the entire length in seconds.
The sound was all I could experience at first, wrapped up in the crash pad as I was. Dull thuds against the pad indicated collisions. The roar of wind eventually muffled, giving way to new clues about the environment. Tinny music whistled from nearby speakers. Quiet groans could be heard, both inside and outside the pad. Pride’s voice was the first clear sound I heard, inside the cocoon of foam.
“Good God Viv, do you sharpen your elbows with a whetstone? How can anyone be so damn pointy?”
“Practice,” she said. Light trickled in as something cut the foam open. I turned towards it, expecting to see someone with a knife. Instead, I got a faceful of plastic as Order coughed the last of the bits of gnawed cushion up. He’d resorted to gnawing his way through almost immediately. I almost wondered if he started before we even jaunted.
He pushed himself through the gap first. He’d made the exit, so it was his right to leave before anyone else. I was nearest, so I followed behind. The halls of the spin station should have prepared me more for the realm of the burger clown, but I still found myself flabbergasted by how humans choose to decorate things.
Murals lined the full length of the halls, only slightly vandalized by the trail of destruction we left from our decel. There was a story to them, but only just. Scenes of a burglar and a purple oozing mutant, charmingly sharing burgers and fries, were interspersed with scenes of intense violence. There, a chicken-woman was eating nuggets. Just ahead, a man with white skin and red lips was taking a crown off a severed head. One wall showed a child eating fries covered in ketchup. Directly across from it, the Pale Man bit a severed finger, micking the child’s glee. The burglar dominated the dozen yards of wall beyond nightmare, having merry adventures stealing, eating, and redistributing burgers. It ended abruptly as the Pale Man returned, wearing his stolen crown, and sentenced him to ‘death by lingchi.’
The remaining set of halls were very graphic images of the burglar being forced through a fry-cutter.
I turned around, mostly to see the story of the murals continue. I’d forgotten about the moaning outside the crash foam.
Scattered across the hall in piles of broken and shattered bone lay dull imitations of the Pale Man. His acolytes and priests. Bone white skin, blood red lips, and hatred were the only traits they shared. One crawled towards me, legs trailing uselessly behind it, lips opening and closing wordlessly. I’d probably have stared in horror until it actually got up to me, except that Order finally seemed to have regained his bearings.
I didn’t see him until he was already past me, flying through the air with all the grace of a bird of a prey. Humans had shorter arms than my people, but their legs were powerful. The arc of his fall ended with both feet slamming into the back of the crawler’s neck. Bone snapped and the horror finally, blessedly, went still.
Order looked at me, eyes blazing, and said aloud what the thing had been wording.
“I’m lovin’ it.”
I think I forgot to breathe until Ersatz and Pride both managed to squeeze their way out of the foam. Viv breached a new way through, courtesy of her pointy elbows, and together, we traveled into the unspeakable hell of the burger clown’s ship.
First/ Previous / Next

[First] [Previous] [Next]
Edited by WaveOfWire
- - - - -
Two days… It had been two days that Tracy had gone to sleep while Harrison was working, only to come back in the morning to see him still in the workshop. She knew he was damn productive, sure, but that really couldn’t be healthy. Apparently, it had something to do with the weird bowl of orange… soup… that Cera gave him. No way was it just caffeine; any amount of the stuff would have been filtered out of his system by now. He mentioned a tingling feeling too…
Damn, she did not know enough about drugs to even start assuming what that massive alien had Harrison fucked up on. At least the scanner said he was ‘fine’—if you ignore the other glaring issues the machine brought up. Plus, he said he didn’t mind it. Either way, he managed to complete the weaving component and a few other electrical backbones of the fabricator last night, so the project was practically done, and after seeing the engineer work himself half to death, she was dead-set on finishing it.
She was currently tits-deep into the upper manufacturing portion of the towering machine. It took a tall step-stool—on top of the nearby desk—for her to push her small shoulders through the even smaller access panels high on the everything-printer. It was difficult to fit her torso in, but she managed, holding a flashlight between her teeth as she fiddled with a stubborn series of mechanical ‘hands.’ Nothing new. The situation reminded her of the ‘shop back on Mars; it had the same ever-present scent of copper and industrial sealant. All that was missing was her dad’s ancient tunes blasting through some shitty speakers… Hold on…
The modular component in her grip was successfully attached with a resonating thock. Tracy squirmed out of the dim wire-filled crevice, trying her best to not rip her only tank-top on any bolts or corners, and getting a face-full of the bright flood-lights illuminating the workshop. She scowled and blocked out the searing light with a hand, but she was a bit too late to avoid going half-blind.
“Are the mechanical manipulators in?” Harrison grunted, poking his head out underneath the printer’s floor-adjacent maintenance hatch. She looked down at him as she tried to blink off the spots in her vision. His hair was messy, barely kept in line by his habit of combing through it with his fingers. The areas around his eyes were dark and sunken… Guess that’s what two all-nighters did to a man. He’d be seeing the hat man or start hallucinating if he didn’t get any sleep soon… but then again, the two of them were so close to finishing the fabricator…
“You bet.” She gave him a thumbs up, slamming the panel cover closed. “Feel free to test it.”
He nodded and slid back underneath the machine. “Gotcha”
She gently stepped off the stool and slid off the side of the desk, stretching herself out. If her piss-poor sitting posture or her tank-top puppies hadn’t already fucked her spine up, bending over backward to build this fabricator sure as hell would. She sat down next to the panel where Harrison resided, resting her back against the fabrication tower. Her excited voice broke the muffled noises of the engineer’s work. “So… Harrison?”
“Hmm—”
“—Mind if I play some music?”
The sounds from the hatch stopped, followed by his muffled, shocked tone echoing from beneath the fabricator. “You have music!?”
She smirked at seeing the expression on his face when his head popped out again. “I sure do… Did you seriously not download any to your data pad?”
He slipped out from beneath the fabricator fully, huffing as he took a knee beside her. The scent of melded rubber, wire, and his liquid labor reached her nose not-so-unpleasantly. “You would not believe how much of a pain it is to repair an entire barracks without it… So, yeah, I didn’t.”
“Sooooooooo, whatcha wanna listen to? I’ve got almost everything on here—besides the super niche, of course.” She pulled her data pad out, swiping to the massive music folder
“You wouldn’t like the kinda music I listen to; It’s ancient.”
She gave him a lighthearted, annoyed glare. “Welcome to the club… Now what’ll it be?”
“It’s Old Earth kind of ancient… but alright” He looked up at the ceiling in thought, lips pursed. “Do you have anything from Styx or Sweet?”
She stared at him incredulously, her smirk turning into a fully-fledged smile. “Oh my God. You are an absolute dork! You actually listen to Golden Age music?”
His brows raised, accusatory. “And you somehow know exactly who those bands were and what age of Old Earth music they came from?”
She smugly leaned in closer. “That’s because I’m just as much of a nerd with that kinda music as you apparently are.” She quickly looked upward, addressing the workshop AI. “Sebas, connect nearby speakers to my data pad’s audio.” Tracy elbowed the engineer lightly as the PA system chirped its affirmation. “Now, Mr. Golden Age music, which albums do ya want me to queue up?”
- - - - -
The two of them listened to music for hours, tossing on songs they liked as they came to mind while they worked. Harrison had a ton of recommendations that spanned all over the Golden Ages and some twenty-first century classics. She didn’t even know half of them, but she was vibing either way, adding on her own taste by intermingling some older rock tracks and newer electronic beats. The playlist was steadily built up as the day went on. Thank God her dad showed her a vast array of tunes; she might not have been able to keep up with the engineer if her old man hadn't.
It made the work go by so fast, their conversations blurring as they jumped from topic to topic. They discussed whatever came to mind—old hobbies, old jobs, and old interests. A lot was left behind in Sol… At least she knew that the only other human on the planet was more interesting than a soulless workaholic. It turned out that he was a pretty big history buff, and he apparently read a lot about the colonization of the Sol system and the various wars of independence thereafter. Curious, she asked where the interest stemmed from, and he explained that his grandfather was an admiral in the Slavic-Europan deep-ice submarine fleet, which explained how Harrison’s mother was able to afford to immigrate to Mars from Europa.
He could also play an acoustic guitar, and, unfortunately for Tracy, he wasn’t even the slightest bit interested in printing one out, citing that it was a waste of time and material that would be better used elsewhere. That didn’t stop her from writing a note on her data pad to do so later, though. She hadn’t seen someone play one of those in years—the last time was probably in some old music video from the early twenty-second century. What a shame. She would have liked to hear some of the Europan songs his grandmother taught him.
On the bright side, the man seemed to take an interest in her odd hobbies. He brought up the folder of 3D models that she accidentally uploaded to the inter-module system and asked where she got the inspiration for what was in it. Boy, was he not ready for her ‘WarHalberd40k’ lore dump. Props to the guy for not standing up and leaving the workshop throughout her rambling. He even asked questions about the different factions and their weapons, which she was more than happy to talk about.
She also ended up going over the other franchises and hobbies she was interested in, such as robotics and the like. The only interruptions to their chat were the occasional Akula or Craftsman asking for insight regarding the various tasks he had allotted to them, or Shar coming in to check up on Harrison between guard shifts.
The new dynamic of the group was pretty interesting, to say the least. Tracy hadn’t been out to interact with the whole lot of Malkrin, but she definitely noticed how they treated the engineer. They’d started to look up to him in a way ever since he started showing off technology. In a little over two days, the man had shown them that he could provide the materials for a brick house, fine clothing—especially by the alien’s standards—armor, and delicious food. That wasn’t even mentioning the other benefits the technician heard a few of the ‘banished’ talking about over their meals: heating, electric lights, and other assorted machines.
She’d be feeling pretty happy about herself if she was in his position, having so many look up to him and be grateful at the same time. He seemed to view it a lot more robotically, however, only striving to get the basics done. Luckily for him, his basics were their luxury.
That wasn’t all there was to the topic; the engineer lamented about how the colony was going through food just as quickly as materials. The meals weren’t the direct issue he had, more that he had to start focusing on long-term resource harvesting rather than directly preparing for a literal horde of monsters—which wasn’t exactly ideal. It was a good thing that they just so happened to take on an influx of Malkrin then…
Either way, they finally finished the ‘totally legal modification’ for the fabricator, meaning they could at least partially address the latter half of his worries. The whole process of ripping out an old printer and replacing the parts for a new one felt a lot easier than she imagined… even if it took her at least forty-eight hours to complete it… with help from Harrison. Maybe that was why it felt so easy… She supposed the colony overseers didn’t choose the man for no reason, so his skills made sense.
“So… what do we want to print out first?” Tracy questioned, having finished testing the last major component.
The engineer stretched his arms up into the air and rotated his shoulders, then pulled back the desk’s chair and took a seat. “I’ve had just one thing in mind since the start of this whole project.”
Her brows raised in a mix of excitement and curiosity. She leaned forward, looking at the computer monitor from over his shoulder. “Oh? What’s that, then?”
A smirk formed along his cheek, the computer mouse rapidly clicking through the blueprint folder. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about what kind of firearm we need since I started dabbling in belt-fed weapon systems.” He opened one final file, a short loading bar preceding the exploded assembly view of… “An M2 Browning machine gun. It’s more than powerful enough to kill in one shot, while also being capable of fully-automatic fire, with a capacity of however many rounds we want in a belt-box.”
“Uh…huh…” She gave a skeptical nod and took a step back, not exactly sold on the idea. “It looks ancient. It’s kinetic, right? Why aren’t we using energy-based weapons? Don’t we have a gunpowder shortage coming up?”
He moved his chair off to the side to look back at her. “We just can’t; Simple as. We’ll need who knows how many more AI cores before we can get started on that level of equipment, Trace,” he huffed, returning his gaze to the specifications of the firearm. “This isn’t the most ‘modern’ weapon we can make, but its twenty-first century counterpart helps with an improved design… somewhat. And, as I said before, it should be more than capable of killing a bug in one shot, so Shar can just tap-fire it to save ammunition.”
Her head tilted quizzically. “Shar?”
“Yup,” he returned confidently. “It’s the perfect weapon for her.”
She raised a brow. “How so?”
He held his hand up, counting his reasons on his fingers. “She’s always on the front line with a shield, she can absolutely handle the weight and recoil, her four arms make reloading it simple, plus she’ll need something with range and power that isn’t a spear. So, why not? And, if for some reason, she doesn’t want to use it, we can just convert it into a turret—which is something I was planning on doing anyways with however more M2s we print out later.”
“I doubt she’ll say no to any gun you give her,” Tracy chuckled while shaking her head, inadvertently causing her bangs to cover her eyes.
“Fair enough,” he conceded with a bob of his head. “What do you think, then? What kinda weapons do you have in mind?”
She reapplied her goggles into an impromptu hairband, feeling a smirk cross her face. “Thought you’d never ask. What purpose do we need these guns to fulfill? Hordes I’m guessing?”
“That’s the idea, yeah. That doesn’t mean they all need to be machine guns, though.” He tapped the belt-fed shotgun beside him.
“Well, lemme see what we’re working with first.” She suddenly stepped forward, leaning over Harrison’s seat to access the keyboard and mouse. Her arms briefly rubbed against him, forcing him to roll his chair backward. She suppressed a giggle at seeing his incredulous frown.
Her eyes quickly traced the hundreds of individual files, clicking through all sorts of folders, each arranged from pre-twenty-first century ‘antiques,’ to more modern iterations of kinetics and particle weaponry. There was… a lot on there—almost too much to reasonably comb through. Why? Did the colony overseers just say ‘fuck it’ and put whatever they could find on here? Were they expecting the pioneers to make a museum of everything?
She sighed, standing up straight and facing Harrison. “Y’know, I’m actually impressed you managed to find that M2-whatever in there…”
He shifted in his seat, resting an elbow on the desk. “Yup, there’s a lot. I’m almost tempted to just make several of those machine guns and just call it a day, but I feel like that’d be too much of a strain on resources, no?”
“I don’t really know enough about how you fight those spider-crab things, or how to get more gunpowder, so… maybe?” She shrugged, biting her cheek in contemplation. “You might just wanna make a few smaller caliber weapons… like, uh… those old kinetic service rifles. If your pump-action shotgun works fine, I’m sure some normal guns would work just fine for now, right?”
He hardily gripped his firearm, hauling it up to his lap. “Depends on what you mean by ‘smaller caliber.’ The whole reason why the KS-23 here works—” he pulled out a massive shell from the ammo belt, displaying it on his palm. “—is because the twenty-three-millimeter round has enough energy transfer to mess up any bug's shell and insides. I’d say the smallest rounds we could use would be point-two-forty-three caliber to get any similar results.”
Brief flickers of grungy orange shells and gnashing teeth marred Tracy’s sight. She forcibly suppressed them, distracting herself with dry humor and a strained laugh. “Guess those fuckers can really take a punch, huh?”
He shook his head somberly. “I couldn’t imagine going up against them without a gun… Anyway, I like your idea of a standard rifle for now. Then, when we have some product lines up, we can go a little more in depth into personal weapons.”
“So are you gonna take one?” She hopped up on the desk, letting her legs swing off the side.
“Don’t think so, no. I’ll stick with my shotty.” The internals of the heavily modified weapon rattled as he held it up and inspected it. “Doesn’t mean I’ll keep it as is. I’m thinking of printing a laser aiming module so I can point-fire it accurately, and maybe a melee-oriented muzzle brake or a lighter chassis to reduce weight… Not sure though.”
She leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees, her cheeks in her palms. “Melee-oriented? Oooooh, like a chain-sword or something?”
His short chuckle coerced a smirk to her face. “No, not like that. More something to use as a bludgeoning tool. Right before the blood-moon, I ended up getting just as much use out of this shotgun as a hammer than as a… well, a shotgun.”
“That’s pretty fuckin’ metal. So are you just gonna make the barrel into a giant bayonet?”
He nodded. “Not exactly a bayonet, but something more like a door-breaching break.”
A short silence settled on their conversation, the faint sounds of the fabricator’s hum and distant woodwork coming to light. Right, there was an outside world… She’d been too caught up talking to Harrison for however many hours it had been. She wondered how successful the fisherwomen were in collecting, and how things had been for the others working on the wood storage shack. Maybe it was already completed? The sun peered through the cargo bay door, proving that it was only about midday. What else would they work on today?
“Hey,” she ventured.
“Hm?” the engineer hummed, his eyes focused on the monitor beside the technician.
She scooted closer to his keyboard. “What’re we doing after this?”
“What do you mean?”
She leaned backward, propping herself up on two hands. “Project wise; what’s the next big thing?”
“Uhmmm…” he muttered, interacting with the computer for a few more seconds before finally meeting her gaze. “Well, I’ve just allocated the fabricator to print out the M2, three FALs—wood furniture, of course—then there’s the magazines and ammunition, so we’ve got a lot of time to kill. The next big thing is definitely going to be metal procurement, and— Oh, right!” Harrison stopped mid-sentence, reaching into his backpack and pulling out several finger-sized metallic cubes, a sudden fire in his eyes. “Okay, so a while ago, during an encounter with three colossi, Shar and Akula found a cave with some ‘surface’ metal deposits. I took a piece off to analyze, but never got the chance to until last night. Anyway, we don’t have any machines to examine the ore, so I made use of the recycler and broke it down to its baser components.”
She nodded along, seeing where he was going with his explanation. “I’m guessing those shiny cubes are the metals from the ore?”
“Sure is. So, as it turns out, we have a pretty damn close supply of not only iron, but also, zinc, sulfur, and a small amount of cadmium. I talked with Sebas about it and did a little research. We believe it’s something akin to sphalerite, given its composition and looks, which implies it’s a sedimentary exhalative deposit. That means there must have been some volcanic…”
Harrison continued talking about underwater deposits and ancient rock formations, bringing up some theories brought forward by the now 4-AI-core-powered Sebas, delving into the current land mass’ history and possible ore output. A lot of it went over the tradewoman’s head, but she still listened intently… Honestly, she could have listened to the man talk about finding metals for hours. It was sort of like the podcasts she used to listen to while completing colonist training, but even more personal and somehow easier to get lost in…
“…find some other minerals further down like silver, but it also might be an active lava zone. Again, these are all theories and this world could just throw the fundamentals of geology away as it does for physics. Anyway, sorry for going on for so long about that, just thought it’d be important for getting some metals in the future.”
“No, no,” Tracy assured, alleviating him of concern with a wave of her hand. “If there’s anything the colony overseers emphasized, it was farming and mineral acquisition. Don’t worry.” She smiled, pointing a thumb to herself. “I just wanna know how I can help.”
“Actually, I’ve a few things only you can do. I’d like to make use of your impressive drone-making expertise for a few applications, if you don’t mind.”
The task of keeping eye contact slipped into an impossible feat in the span of a singular second, planting a pang of embarrassment on her reddened face, forcing her to inspect her fidgeting hands. “I-I wouldn’t say ‘impressive’… b-but what do you have in mind?”
She could see him raise a brow out of the corner of her vision. “Well, after what you’ve shown me with the reconnaissance flyers, I’d like your help in setting up a more permanent ‘net’ of them to scour the meadow and parts of the nearby forest to look out for any approaching hordes. I don’t want to be snuck up on… again…”
‘Again.’
She noted his small frown and sunken eyes, both a little more exaggerated than they already were. It wasn’t like she’d deny his request, but the pangs of empathy over their shared situation all but solidified her resolve. It was the least she could do. She could help him. She would help him.
The technician exhaled slowly, taking on a more serious and understanding tone than before. “I… can do that. For sure. What else?”
“I appreciate it.” He gave a wane smile. “I’ll help you with whatever you need for the project. For the other drones, I’m thinking about a small exploration vehicle to map out caves around us and mark any minerals, as well as a submersible to look for potassium deposits in the ocean.”
“So… search bots?” She crossed her arms, confidence growing; those were her specialty. “Depending on how long the fabricators take and what kind of base drones are in the blueprint folders, I should be able to get those done in no time. All I need to know are the search cues for potassium and how many drones you want.”
He quickly shuffled a few folders on the computer, turning the monitor for her to see some scientific documents with various images and walls upon walls of text. “There’re plenty of resources for that on here for what to look for, and there’s always Sebas, so feel free to ask him since he can just sort through the data for you anyway. If you can, I’d like it if you could focus on the submersible after the reconnaissance drones.”
“Sounds good to me. I’ll be right on it, then.” She gave him a thumbs up, slipping off his desk and toward her own.
“I’ll bring you lunch in a bit. Imma go check on the others,” he called.
Her stomach grumbled at the mention, her head turning to give him an appreciative smile. “Oh! Thanks!”
\= = = = =
Avian creatures chirped from their perches in the trees nearby. The wind softly rustled red leaves as grass gently gave way to calculated footfalls. A warm sun laid its light on Shar’khee’s neck. It was surprisingly pleasant, were one to take the time to notice. The mainland was a confusing place for the paladin, with its disparate representations of nature contrasting so heavily. Some days were filled with blood and ravenous beasts, while others were left within the domain of simplicity and beauty. She was content to have the latter, yet it felt like a facade veiling the former—a soft exterior covering the maliciously spiked interior. Never could she leave herself to carelessness, no matter how welcoming it might be.
Hence why she worked to ensure the safety of the star-sent’s castles and their inhabitants, her days largely spent patrolling for any roaming swarms that may wish to cause them harm. She typically used the routine to think, but today offered little in the way of solitude. This time, she was accompanied by the previously banished guardswoman, and was tasked with instructing the new one, though the specifics of what such lessons should entail were vague. Still, Shar’khee did all that she could so as not to disappoint Harrison, so she could only attempt to meet his expectations of her.
She told the yellow-skinned female of the threats that the settlement faced, how one was to defeat them, and what to expect from the beasts. The guardswoman was directed to practice her form with the spear in both thrusts and throwing for some time afterward, proving herself to be well-built. Such was expected of her profession after all.
It was pleasing to have another capable of patrolling the settlement’s outskirts for swarms, as it would greatly impact how effectively the colony could react to such a threat. If her routine was to suffer for the colony’s well-being, she was happy to show the new one her patrol route and note what to look out for.
The guardswoman was not a perfect student, however. Shar’khee never addressed it directly, but the yellow-skinned female obviously discredited the danger posed by the abhorrent, not-so-subtly shrugging off any warnings.
…That was until they stumbled upon the ‘hyena-boars,’ as Harrison called them.
The beasts resided in a clearing not too far from the castles, carelessly meandering across the sea of tall grass. Shar’khee quickly crouched, dragging the guardswoman down with her. Once she assessed that the creatures were not an imminent danger, she decided it would be an excellent opportunity to show the new one how to properly engage a threat. She was about to propose the idea, yet her speech was silenced just as swiftly.
Orange flashes darted through the trees around the glade. Taloned feet and gnashing teeth tore across the ground toward the unsuspecting beasts at the center. It was much too late for them. They were slow. Surrounded. Unaware. It was as quick as it was vicious, the forest’s reds turning a deeper crimson hue in a moment's notice underneath the abhorrent’s brutality.
Gangly monstrosities gnawed and ripped at the dead creatures, brief glimpses of raw flesh and white bone protruding from the small spaces between the clumped-up beasts. Repulsive wet splatters of blood and gore overlapped the calm noises of the forest, the grisly scene serenaded by the softest of nature’s symphonies. It was a sickening juxtaposition.
Shar’khee bit back the unease and steeled herself. They were within twenty paces—close enough to smell the abhorrent’s vile stench of rot and bile, yet far enough so as not to be noticed. She briefly considered backing away and retreating, her focus bouncing between the different avenues of escape, or how to cover her footst—
Crack.
Several sets of feral, eyeless maws snapped in their direction, the blood dripping off freshly dampened teeth. The guardswoman gasped, Shar’khee’s gaze following to see the mistake: a singular broken branch crinkled as a yellow-colored foot raised off the splintering twig.
The paladin exhaled sharply and smoothly stood up, brandishing two spears and her shield. Her glare settled on the still crouching guardswoman. “You are to stay behind my shield and let them appr—ch. Rem—ber what I have told you. Aim for their maws when you thrust y—r lance.”
The other female nodded, shakily pulling out her own weapons with unsteady placement hampering her grip. There was an obvious nervousness to her gaze. Hesitance. That would not do.
Shar’khee faced the prowling abhorrent her knuckles shifting hue as she prepared for their advance, for there was no chance that they wouldn’t. True to her experience, the stalking turned to a gallop with several clicks of grotesque tongues, the swarm bolting toward her as one. She snarled and slammed her bulwark into the ground, letting the approaching beasts skewer themselves amongst its spikes.
There were only ten—a paltry amount. She had defended against magnitudes more, and yet she still stood. What is more, they were mindless. Uncoordinated. They would be but stains in the cloth she used to clean her armor. Perhaps, if they were fortunate, they might leave a furrow in her shield to remember them by. Her arms tensed as the first leapt.
One by one, the abhorrent fell, their repulsive green blood splattering under her thrusts. Each awaiting corpse tore across the grove’s grass, lunging to their deaths with gaping maws and unfeeling hunger, yet she did not yield. Their shells were crushed by her shield and impaled by her Goddess-blessed spears, becoming but one more smear across their surface. Ten motionless lumps lay before her, seeping their ichor into the soil, none having passed the barrier she became. Dead, just as the Creator intended. She remained vigilant for a few moments longer, watching for any more of the disgusting creatures.
None showed themselves, finally allowing blood to flow to her fingers once again. The shield’s heavy presence weighed down her back, the blood flicked off of her spears before she returned them to their place.
“Are y–u well?” Shar’khee addressed the frozen Malkrin, wiping away the splatter on her bracers. The guardswoman stared at the small pile of deceased creatures, her heavy breaths and widened eyes moving from the spear from her singular kill. The paladin huffed. “We are fort—ate that there were so few.”
“F-Few? God help us…” Her horrified, stunned gaze slowly met the paladin’s. “Y-You said there were hundreds on the crimson nights? H-How do you… They were s-so fast.”*
”As I h–ve warned,” Shar’khee affirmed.
“You are a paladin! You all exaggerate your feats… I thought it was just a facade!”
“I have no r—son to lie,” she returned tersely, shrugging off the insult to her station and shaking her head. “The mainl—d is far more dangerous than ten gnash—g beasts; more so than that of your island hamlet. Pick yourself up. We m—t inform the others of this incursion.”
The yellow-skinned female snarled, furrowing her brows at the ground in frustration. At whom…? Shar’khee? Herself? Regardless, the female promptly gathered her composure, pushing air through clenched jaws. A step forward had her feet splash in the small pool of blood, the Malkrin nodding toward the paladin to continue back to the castles.
“…for the village.”
Shar’khee paused in her stride and faced her, frowning at the determination and anger leaking through the intent. “W—t was that?”
Her question was returned with honesty, a huffed voice marred by vexation. “Paladin, how am I to defend my village-mates as I am now?”
“‘As you are now?’ What do you m—n?”
The guardswoman stared down at her spear, wood creaking under her grip. “I have faltered before what you deem a paltry threat, and the thought of an even greater one sows dread deep within my bones. I wish… I wish to be better prepared to defend those of my village. I cannot help but see their faces on those of the furred creature in the clearing, and yet, even if I am so close, I am just as unable to protect them.”
Shar’khee stared down the yellow female, a long gaze taking in a rare showing of sincerity. “Y—r fears are one we all share, new one. Do not be ashamed of them. All t—t matters is that you do not let them rem—n mere fear, but make them your strength. So tell me, do you wish to impr—e? To ensure they do not fall while you are support—g them?”
The yellow-skinned female released a shuddering breath that bled off the worst of her indecision, a newly invoked flame flaring within her visage. “I do, paladin. I seek to protect and to be of use.”
“Then, if you wish to make y—rself resilient in the face of all that opposes us, it would be my undertak—g to forge you anew. Fortunately, Harrison has ordered such already, and his guidance shall prove ever useful, should you pursue it.”
The guardswoman shuffled in place at the star-sent’s mention, her eyes slipping downwards. “He is of a great many resources, but I would rather receive your teachings than those of a craftsman… or that of a male, deity-sent he might be.”
She placed a palm on the female’s shoulder. “He is far more than you might ever k—w. Regardless of if you ac—pt his guidance, I commend your conviction. However—” Her hand gripped tighter, though not enough to instill hostility. “—understand that you are protecting more than just your vi—age-mates.”
The new one nodded, staring up at the paladin with stallwart resolve. “Of course. I shall be in your tutelage, then.”
Shar’khee smiled. “T—n let us begin.”
\= = = = =
Akula was becoming increasingly certain that she knew how her parents once felt. The green-skinned fisherwoman was currently rotating between the many tasks placed upon her, guiding the newcomers through the minutia of their tasks so they might live up to the potential Harrison saw within them. She was gratified to have her own talents recognized by the Creator, but it also placed a great many responsibilities in her talons. Of course, she handled each new addition with finesse befitting her heritage, never once balking from the increasing demands. If anything, she felt validated; it was required of her as a female anyway, was it not? The more feminine-appropriate labor and management one undertakes, the higher authority they were granted.
It began with a simple assignment to oversee the chef’s introduction to the star-sent’s provided cooking appliances. As fascinating and convenient as utilities were, she held no interest in preparing any more food than she already had, but teaching another to operate the machines would alleviate such requirements of her. She reluctantly accepted the task when it was proposed, especially considering the fact that Harrison was much too busy with his other projects to bother with something as benign as cooking. His work was more valuable elsewhere.
The task itself went well, and the pink-skinned chef was quick to pick up on the use of the various kitchen devices, as well as the smoker. A grin had grown when she considered the possibility of all males understanding such domestic things readily, yet her mirth at removing the masculine job required of her was short-lived. Despite the newly initiated Malkrin’s success, Harrison had Akula frequently return to oversee the numerous cooking operations being conducted. That was in tandem with the back-to-back fishing trips made by both herself and the newly acquired females.
…Which was something else the green-skinned cycle-worshipper was ordered to oversee.
She had left the chef to his devices after producing another batch of partially seasoned meals, returning to the Creator with hopes of a break. He applauded her efforts with a nod and tersely spoken appreciation, then quickly pushed two spearguns into her hand and directed her to the ocean, where the twins were ‘working with jack shit,’ as the busy male said. She was to give the fisherwomen the tools and make sure they were used properly, and offer additional assistance in acquiring ‘enough fish to have us fed for a little bit.’
So, she left to complete the given task, feeling somewhat appreciative that her speargun was of superior quality to those she would be delivering—the newcomers were only afforded the lesser, roped-bolt version. It was only natural that she was in possession of their greatest assets, of course; the star-sent saw her as the only one capable of wielding such fantastic ammunition, showing trust that was rightfully placed in her. That did not mean the gray-skinned females were unsatisfied with their own gifts, however. The twins were swiftly caught up on the ‘manual of arms’ and sent to work, somehow managing to keep up with Akula in spite of their land-based origins. The two were fast enough to outpace the cycle-worshipper in sheer speed, but their lack of numerous winters spent traversing deeper waters meant they required frequent rests, breaking the ocean’s surface after every third captured fish or so.
Still, she had to appreciate their dedication to their task. They never complained about Akula pushing them further to reach the star-sent’s vague objective. Such a task was entrusted to her—and by proxy, the other two—and thus it would be completed, no matter how much her comfortable bed… couch called her tiring muscles.
The group of three hauled net after full net of fresh meat to the chef—and sewist, who later joined him—forcing him to relegate much of the catch to long-term storage as the kitchen simply could not deal with the surplus. At least three-quarters of the fish were put to slow cook in the now Malkrin-sized smoker. The craftsman had upgraded it with a kit provided by Harrison, who had recycled much of the dining room and workshop furniture to accommodate it. The Creator’s showcased urgency to gather materials was clearly not unfounded… It was admirable how he used what little he had left to ensure food would not be scarce. Additionally, the apparatus exuded an excellent scent for all the survivors to enjoy, the earthy aroma drawing in some of the other Malkrin for their breaks or meals.
Those were not the end of the cycle-worshiper’s tasks, however. She was also required to report on Shar’khee’s progress in training the guardswoman—helping to recycle the small swarm of abhorrent they cleared earlier—as well as the wood storage building’s progress. Indeed, she was advising and assisting however and wherever applicable. To say she was seen all around the settlement would be an understatement.
Nevertheless, she was appreciative to see her efforts bearing fruit by sundown. The processing of their meals from sea to plate was quite efficient, and those that Akula taught were now well-practiced in their duties. The twin fisherwomen dove from wave to wave, bringing fish back to the barracks, where the cook and sewist swiftly worked to transfer the meat to pans and smoker hooks alike. Then, the remnants of the Sea Goddess’ aquatic gifts would be subsequently recycled and given purpose anew as biofuel or perhaps future fertilizer.
The endless onslaught of duties and responsibilities had enlightened her, in a way. She could see where Harrison came from now; having a working project go from one point to another without input nor difficulty was a sight to behold, and it made her swell with pride. It was a surmountable feat to teach the barbaric ground-worshippers to do something properly.
…Well, they were not horrible Malkrin, so perhaps simply calling them ‘uninitiated’ was a more apt descriptor…
No matter the tribulations faced, and no matter how draining her new authority might be, her rest at the end of the day would be one that was well-earned, and it would be had with a sense of satisfaction. She deserved it, and perhaps that extended to the rest of the settlement as well.
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Next time on Total Drama Anomaly Island - Mine! Mine! Mine!

(Only Europe, Please) - short note - If you're not into reading or receiving long messages,don't read any further + Please If you don't want to read everything because of my post being too long for you & instead of reading It all - ..skip some parts - find another person to talk to.Let's respect each other and our free time. All people criticizing/making fun of me & other people - will be blocked.Pretty much as people questioning my post and giving me unsolicited advice.I'm not here for any conflicts and I know I can't please everyone - I know I never will.. However It's me who should feel comfortable in my new potential friendship & obviously someone who wants to be my friend - not the whole world.. which is why I don't need any advice from people who don't even want to be a part of my life. The amount of rude people on Reddit always criticizing others and making fun of them is unbelievably high but let me tell you something - NEVER let anyone make choices for you and criticize you only because you're different! Always fight for your dreams and never let anyone make you think you're worthless! It's your life and you're the one deciding what's best for you - If you want to judge me despite not even wanting to talk to me or give me advice better block me! I'm an adult woman and I make all decisions on my own.I'm not trying to "fit in" and be like everyone else - just to get more attention.Accept me for who I am or let go - is my motto.
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Hello guys! 🙂 (read everything before you decide to send me a message) Please send me a message ONLY If you're in the same situation and If your expectations are the same as mine.I want to find like minded people from Europe (Why Europe? Read my post to find out) I'm looking for something permanent (remember - you can feel lonely even If you're surrounded by others - If there's no emotional bond) I'm fed up of meeting people who never make time for me & only text me once or twice a week to ask me "what are you up to?" Out of boredom.I don't want to meet people asking others a million of questions like "what's your favorite movie?" Just to give them one word answer and ask them another question "and music? Your favorite song?" I'm looking for something "deeper" & different 🙂
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What kind of friend would I like to find? Someone to talk to on a daily basis - Someone who needs It & wants It just as much as me
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What are my expectations? I would like to meet someone in a similar situation – why? Because I honestly feel like only a person with the same expectations and a similar outlook on life would get along with me & because I feel more comfortable talking to people like me..Friendless people who need a strong bond - people without friends and partners.. Don't get me wrong…Most people deserve to be happy and It's good to have friends but people who have friends or families in real life are usually more focused on them (which is completely understandable) & have less time for others + I simply don't want to be replaced by anyone..I kind of envy people who can call others , true friends given I don't have an emotional bond with any of my acquaintances. Please send me a message only If you're not In a relationship and don't have friends for the same reasons I've already mentioned before
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Whenever I hear that others have friends I simply get sad because (believe it or not) If I had to choose between 20 people to talk to (acquaintances) and one special person - I'd choose that one special person without any hesitation .
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I also want to talk to others every day because..I want to see someone’s effort & be someone's first choice - not another person to have random conversations with..some people ask me "Why do you want to talk to people from Europe?" Well..Because I would like to see someone I'd get along with - In the far future - face to face :) + I don't want to wait any longer than 6 hours to receive a message - waiting 6 hours to receive a message is more than enough
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I'm by no means criticizing people who don't want to talk to others often / People who really are super busy & People who want to find someone to have unimportant conversations with - I'm aware that not everyone has the same expectations which is why everything you're reading now - is here for a reason :) All I'm suggesting is - I don't want anything temporary and I don't want to be the one always giving more than receiving.Listen people - I used to ignore being..ignored by others..always being just an option to talk to during tough times or moments of boredom.I was too young to realize that I was never important enough for most people that were a part of my life. I don't know who needs to hear this but..No one is too busy to make time for you! People make excuses to avoid others because they prioritize everything and (maybe) everyone..over them. It's true that most people are busy - but It takes only a few seconds to start a conversation (If you're into short messages) and a few minutes (1-10/15) to type a long message . Don't let anyone lie to you.
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Truth is that most people either don't like you enough to make time for you or just simply - feel no need to talk to others often but are they too busy? No..You don't need to send me a message just to ask me and tell me "Do you really want to talk every day? I like long messages but I can't promise to contact you often" If you really are unsure please don't send me a message.I don't need more acquaintances aka people to talk to - occasionally.
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I'm not trying to sound rude but conversations once or twice a week wouldn't be enough for me and I don't need them... Let me tell you one thing – A true friend would never just give up on you for no reason :) It’s always possible to find someone to have a random conversation with – someone willing to send you one message once or twice a week..but..It’s almost impossible to find people willing to make more time for you.
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I’m not asking a busy person to make time for me by changing some plans! Absolutely not! I’m here to find someone who wants to talk daily (throughout the day or maybe even night) of one’s own will.Someone looking for the same kind of connection.Strong friendships are based on mutual support. One of the best things you can do for a friend in need, is just to be there for them when they want to talk.I often see posts from people who always say how friendless they are because they don't feel loved or appreciated by their "friends" remember! A true friend - someone who truly likes you or someone who wants to get to know you - will always find time for you.
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I'm not interested in small talk/short messages - I love long and meaningful conversations. It's so easy to find someone who loves abbreviations and questions like "How are you?" How was your day? Or what are you interested in? But so hard/almost impossible to find a person who knows how to keep a conversation going & show others some effort.Building and maintaining friendships takes time and effort.Never allow pursuits or possessions to become bigger priorities than your relations with other people.Close friendships are so important to us because they are so difficult to form + Having friends can help you feel as if you belong to something that brings purpose and connection to your life
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• I do NOT respond to any „Hey,hmu” or „u want to talk?” type of messages (super short messages or messages full of abbreviations – I literally can’t stand abbreviations and acronyms in text messages) ALL messages full of abbreviations will immediately be ignored.I also don't like it when people ignore everything I say in private messages just to focus on a random question or? When they start talking only about themselves and don't ever ask me anything. I love conversations with people referring to everything I say...I want everything I say and do - to be reciprocated
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• No NSFW profiles (checking mental health subreddits NOT included as I'm a huge empath and always try to understand others) - Please! I'm not looking for anyone to flirt with and I'm not looking for a partner either. I always check people's profiles (even comment history) - To avoid guys, trying to get inappropriate pictures from adult women or? flirt with them + I don't want to see you with no clothes on so If you're on Reddit only because you want others to see what's underneath your clothes - I'm not for you! I just simply don't want to see any s e x related activity on your profile If you want to talk to me.
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• If both of us (you and I) are from the same country (I live in a non-English speaking country) - I want to communicate with you in our first language! No - Not because I don't understand English - because as you see - I do. Why then? English is simply overrated and people don't appreciate other languages as much as they should. So.. If we're from the same country and you want to talk only in English (which is quite common on reddit) - Talk to someone else. I just don't want to talk to a person from the same country as mine - in a foreign language as It's just something I don't understand even If all you want is to improve your language skills
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• Please only adult people 18-36 (age range) It doesn't matter to me If you're younger or older than me (as long as you're not underage) So.. don't worry! I just want to have discussions with emotionally mature people :)
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• I don’t respond to messages I don’t find interesting even If they're long - If after receiving and reading your message I don't feel comfortable or think "I wouldn't get along with him/her" I simply do not respond (what I’m suggesting is that I don’t always respond to someone’s first or second message because..sometimes you just know If you’d get along with someone or not- I’d never ignore anyone after days or weeks of daily conversations though) just because I don’t want to do anything forcefully & because I don’t want to lead anyone on. I read all messages but I definitely don't respond to all of them! I want to make it clear because I don't want to be accused of not responding and not reading people's messages! - Some people don't message me back as well and even If It's a bit disappointing I'm ok with that! - as long as there's no emotional bond - Not responding to someone's first or second message Is completely OK! If people think they wouldn't get along with a stranger - is there a reason to start a conversation? I don't think so. I can't stand being ignored after days or weeks of daily conversations and seeing people changing priorities over time.. but that's something different - something I don't want to go through ever again for real. If I'm really interested in someone's message it's impossible to hear from me "I'm too busy" because I know myself and If I had no time for others - I wouldn't be here. I don't want to pretend someone I'm not and always try to find some cheap excuses to avoid others. (unlike most people who don't want to talk to others)
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• Don’t ask me “Can you tell me something about yourself?” If you really want to get to know me - you can ask me questions :) I'm an open book.
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• It would be better If you guys were into emojis - like me - to describe your emotions In text messages. Two emojis - 🙂 and 🙁 are completely enough! I just don't like emotionless conversations.I also don't like it when people say "yeah" or yea"as it sounds dismissively. First impression Is everything to me! I want to see your kindness even in a text message - Emojis are very helpful to express your emotions.I don't want to meet people who say "crying Is a weakness" - It's OK to cry even If you're a guy!
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• I want to talk on reddit first (just to make sure If I'd get along with you) before moving to Discord or some other app
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• I would rather talk to a homebody - not another person who always has something to do as people who are very busy don't even have time for daily conversations
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• If you're another person interested only in "childish conversations" such as "HEYOOO! I'M BORED! Ya like Pizza or cheese? xDDDD 🤣" I'm begging you! Don't send me a message.I'm not a child anymore and such messages don't make me smile or laugh.I'm looking for someone interested In serious discussions - not another person just seeking some entertainment out of boredom . Conversations with sarcastic undertones (even when It comes to some emojis such as 🤣😂) are not for me. Your typing style matters to me! Why? when It comes to online conversations with someone new - It's not always possible to know If someone Is laughing at you.. or with you. Let me tell you something else! Jokes about cancer, disabilities and death are UNACCEPTABLE to me. If you find joy In someone else's misfortune you are not a person I want to know.
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• Time response matters to me a lot! I would never ask anyone to be online all day long and I'm NOT asking any of you for any instant messaging as I'm someone who would rather wait an hour or two to receive a proper response instead of some short and pointless messages but I'm interested only in daily conversations and I don't want to wait any longer than 6 hours to get a message from you.I don't need unbelievably long messages either! Messages as long as the second paragraph of my post - are completely enough. If you like longer messages? you can send me a longer message, but If you want to send me one word or one sentence as a response to my post - don't expect a reaction from me. I don't want to come across as rude - I just don't want to waste your time
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• I'm strongly AGAINST picking on people you don't even want to chat with - and making fun of them! I can't stand people who criticize others publicly or make fun of them! (only because they disagree with someone they don't even know) There's no place In my life for someone using Reddit, to hurt other people
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• I'm not into foul language and I definitely don't want to talk to people who swear a lot...
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• I want to meet assertive people who know what they want and always stand up for their friends
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• I want to meet someone willing to call me In the future, someone spontaneously sending me pictures of animals or food, et cetera. I want more than just text conversations.. 🌻
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Why can’t you see any of my hobbies listed down below? Because what really matters to me is..who you are (If you’re honest, talkative ,understanding, caring and trustworthy – for example) just simply – It matters to me what you’re like! not what you like.Don’t get me wrong – you can tell me what your hobbies are but from my point of view - people's hobbies are important - If you want to find a gaming buddy or If you want to meet someone to hang out with in real life and..go bowling for example.What most people seem to care about are other people's passions – I don’t. I get along with other people despite having completely different hobbies but I absolutely don’t get along with people way different than me (different expectations and outlook on life – way different sense of humor or personality traits – It’s just an example) It doesn't make ANY DIFFERENCE to me If you're a gamer or? Someone interested in photography! It doesn't make any difference - > as long as you're talkative and kind and If you also want to find someone willing to stay in your life..for good - But If you're into small talk and all you want is to...type and receive super short messages or If you're here only because you're bored and don't know what to do + If you're a very sarcastic person - I'm definitely not for you! I don't get along with overly sarcastic people turning everything into a joke. Friendships should be natural – not forced. I wouldn't get along with people who laugh at everything.. In my opinion most people are way too sarcastic.. It's quite sad... Sarcasm can also be another form of passive-aggressive behavior.
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People who want to be to friends should feel comfortable and have something in common. No - not necessarily a similar taste in music or movies but something else..Most friendships don't fizzle out because of people not having the same hobbies but..because they just simply have different expectations when It comes to something important.I'm not here out of boredom and trust me - I'm not here to meet as many people as possible.I choose quality over quantity.I highly value myself and my time & Sometimes one person but a person who makes you feel comfortable and understood - is more than enough :) We ALL can choose what kind of people we’d like to talk to and maybe even become really good friends with and I? I don’t want anyone to be disappointed.We all have some expectations after all.I know that people don't have to talk as often as possible in order to become friends but I'm interested only in daily conversations. If you really need someone to talk to due to loneliness and If you have time to talk to me daily (throughout the day and maybe even night) I always make time for others.I'm literally always available.I could even stay up all night long only to talk to someone important to me. I’m ready to commit but only If there’s some chemistry between me and someone else.I don’t do anything forcefully.
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If you want to talk to me tell me your story - tell me why you're here, what kind of friend would you like to meet :) Et cetera.Such messages are way more interesting to me than...someone's long list of hobbies. I know! It's unusual on reddit but I don't make friends based on hobbies..I want to meet someone with the same mindset as mine to finally feel understood and get close to someone new. You can share your problems with me - I absolutely don't mind "complaining" as I've been through a lot in my life.What do people usually tell you when you tell them that something's wrong? "Don't complain" or "Life's not over yet - one day you'll be happy" or "There are worse situations than yours" and..obviously "Find a therapist" Life's not a fairytale and sometimes things don't go as planned.Emotions shouldn't be bottled up.I'm sick of people always telling others "everything's gonna be ok" move on " & more..Trust me people - not everyone wants to hear "Just believe in yourself and everything's gonna be ok" Some people take it as reassurance - but others? They would rather hear something different 🙁Imagine being told that things will be okay, only for them to get worse..Do you guys know why telling someone "everything's gonna be ok" Is wrong? Because you can't see the future.
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You can't guarantee others that one day they'll finally be happy + when It comes to social interactions - We're responsible only for ourselves - not others & as you guys know people let us down quite often (sometimes even when there's no reason) so instead of telling people how they should move on, forget everything and be happy or asking them to find a therapist - be there for them! Always be willing to listen to them If you really like them or want to get to know them & don't suggest everyone in a tough situation to find a therapist because even the best therapist won't ever replace a true friend + It's quite normal to be disappointed If people always do something to hurt you. Sharing your hardships with other people in a very similar situation or exactly the same one - is VERY helpful If the other person understands you & wants to start all over by just letting it all out! Feeling emotional support instead of always hearing some "positive quotes" or someone saying "Stop complaining let's talk about something else - Is very important! "Everyone needs a shoulder to cry on. I appreciate sensitive people who always try to understand others. If after hearing a sad story all you want to say is "forget the past and move on" you're not for me. It's important to be a good listener and provide emotional support to others
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Please - If you're a completely different person than the described type of person I'm looking for (If you love abbreviations,If you don't need a stable friendship, If you're sarcastic and quiet) or If you simply disagree with my post - don't force yourself to send me a message.I want my new potential friendship to be natural which is why I want you to contact me only If your needs are the same - I don't want you to pretend someone you're not - only to please me - Pretending to be someone you're not - is the worst.I want to finally be happy again & find someone "always" wanting to talk - sending me random pictures throughout the day - food pictures or pictures of some animals. What is the most important to me? I want to find people who value online friendships as much as they would value real life ones as there's another human being on the other side
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No comments please.Only Private messages and chat requests 🌺
I know It's possible to meet people with exactly the same expectations as mine but It's just not easy because most people are Interested In temporary and entertaining conversations. People like me are just "different" I really want to finally find someone who loves emojis as much as I do.. someone who loves sweet, warm and serious discussions at the same time. Emojis really do - change conversations 😊

hello. ill try to keep this to relevant information but i think youll all understand when i say i tend to give more information than needed. im posting this half for advice in general and half because im curious as to if anyone else has made a big move like this and how it impacted your functioning concerning your autism.
ive been going through a lot of changes recently and it has been taking a huge toll on my mental health. to keep things easy to keep track of, ill provide an order of events to summarize:

• get married at 20 years old, move from my east side home state to a western state bc my new husband is in military
  
• move 8 hours north after 2 years in western state
  
• really like it in new state. live here for 2 more years before changes start happening. entire time im unemployed. im a homemaker, so i do all the cooking, cleaning, laundry, etc while husband works. mental health is constantly up and down, but mostly up. i can recover when im down and i get better quickly. im happy, husband’s happy. we’re poor but ok with it bc we’re happy
  
• start attending therapy in july 2023. get on antidepressants/anti anxiety med. work through past hangups. going well, i love my therapist
  
• october 2023, husband is medically retired. he wants to take a break before finding a job, i agree that he deserves a break after working so hard to the point he has multiple medical problems. i start looking for a job.
  

-november 2023, i start my new job. my job is very client-facing, and i have a lot of anxiety. im stressed
-december, im depressed a lot. house chores are slipping through the cracks. husband agreed to take on my duties but doesnt maintain the apartment to the level im used to, so i have a lot of anxiety about being home. he forgets things a lot due to a mix of adhd and a semi-recent tbi that never healed to the state his brain was before. my therapist wants to get me an autism evaluation. my meds are increased to the maximum dose possible

• february 2024, due to increasing depression and suicidal ideation, i relapse in self harm and make a plan for suicide. i have a complete breakdown. my therapist has my husband take me to a psych ward. they dont admit me because they (rightfully) feel im no longer a danger to myself and that admitting me into a strange environment with none of my familiar deescalation comforts would cause more harm than good mentally. i get a formal autism evaluation. i decide then that i want to move back to my home state as soon as physically possible. my therapist says she doesnt think long term employment is possible for me.
  
• march, my results come back. im officially diagnosed at age 24 with level 2 autism, adhd, social anxiety disorder, generalized anxiety disorder with panic attacks, and major depressive disorder (moderate, recurrent episodes). my therapist tells me shes changing jobs and will be gone by the end of the month. i take all this in. work keeps getting harder and harder to do.
  

-early may, the suicidal ideation gets so bad its honestly incredibly scary. i almost take my happy ass to the psych ward myself on multiple occasions. every time i have to go into work i think of death. i spontaneously quit on a random tuesday morning after multiple meltdowns in the previous days. i still dont have another therapist yet.
which brings us to now. im absolutely in burnout, still struggling with suicidal ideation and executive functioning. self care is out the window. my husband is starting a new job that will pay much more than i was getting. lease is up august 1st. plan is to move into my in laws house until steady employment for my husband is reached and we can financially find a place of our own again. i have 5 years of stuff to somehow sort through and condense so we can drag it back across the country.
but now that i have a lot more headspace free, i keep thinking about how happy we were here before all this started. how nice our apartment was and how i love the mountains and all the small businesses we grew to frequent all the time, and how before all this happened i was dead set on just living here permanently. im so torn because all i wanted in my darkest moments was to go back to the quiet countryside my family lives in in my home state, and i do think a quieter area would help. sometimes my husband and i lean over the cricket containers at pet stores to listen to them chirp because summer nights in the south are all crickets and frogs croaking and train horns, and we have none of that here. the southern countryside has an air of peace i have yet to match anywhere else.
im just so lost and scrambling to get my feet under me again. now that my biggest stressor is out of the picture i feel guilty that i dont have my shit together yet. im also really curious as to what the autistic side of me would benefit most from. has anyone had experience with this kind of location change impacting their functioning concerning their autism?
thanks.

(Only Europe, Please) - short note - If you're not into reading or receiving long messages,don't read any further + Please If you don't want to read everything because of my post being too long for you & instead of reading It all - ..skip some parts - find another person to talk to.Let's respect each other and our free time. All people criticizing/making fun of me & other people - will be blocked.Pretty much as people questioning my post and giving me unsolicited advice.I'm not here for any conflicts and I know I can't please everyone - I know I never will.. However It's me who should feel comfortable in my new potential friendship & obviously someone who wants to be my friend - not the whole world.. which is why I don't need any advice from people who don't even want to be a part of my life. The amount of rude people on Reddit always criticizing others and making fun of them is unbelievably high but let me tell you something - NEVER let anyone make choices for you and criticize you only because you're different! Always fight for your dreams and never let anyone make you think you're worthless! It's your life and you're the one deciding what's best for you - If you want to judge me despite not even wanting to talk to me or give me advice better block me! I'm an adult woman and I make all decisions on my own.I'm not trying to "fit in" and be like everyone else - just to get more attention.Accept me for who I am or let go - is my motto.
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Hello guys! 🙂 (read everything before you decide to send me a message) Please send me a message ONLY If you're in the same situation and If your expectations are the same as mine.I want to find like minded people from Europe (Why Europe? Read my post to find out) I'm looking for something permanent (remember - you can feel lonely even If you're surrounded by others - If there's no emotional bond) I'm fed up of meeting people who never make time for me & only text me once or twice a week to ask me "what are you up to?" Out of boredom.I don't want to meet people asking others a million of questions like "what's your favorite movie?" Just to give them one word answer and ask them another question "and music? Your favorite song?" I'm looking for something "deeper" & different 🙂
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What kind of friend would I like to find? Someone to talk to on a daily basis - Someone who needs It & wants It just as much as me
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What are my expectations? I would like to meet someone in a similar situation – why? Because I honestly feel like only a person with the same expectations and a similar outlook on life would get along with me & because I feel more comfortable talking to people like me..Friendless people who need a strong bond - people without friends and partners.. Don't get me wrong…Most people deserve to be happy and It's good to have friends but people who have friends or families in real life are usually more focused on them (which is completely understandable) & have less time for others + I simply don't want to be replaced by anyone..I kind of envy people who can call others , true friends given I don't have an emotional bond with any of my acquaintances. Please send me a message only If you're not In a relationship and don't have friends for the same reasons I've already mentioned before
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Whenever I hear that others have friends I simply get sad because (believe it or not) If I had to choose between 20 people to talk to (acquaintances) and one special person - I'd choose that one special person without any hesitation .
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I also want to talk to others every day because..I want to see someone’s effort & be someone's first choice - not another person to have random conversations with..some people ask me "Why do you want to talk to people from Europe?" Well..Because I would like to see someone I'd get along with - In the far future - face to face :) + I don't want to wait any longer than 6 hours to receive a message - waiting 6 hours to receive a message is more than enough
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I'm by no means criticizing people who don't want to talk to others often / People who really are super busy & People who want to find someone to have unimportant conversations with - I'm aware that not everyone has the same expectations which is why everything you're reading now - is here for a reason :) All I'm suggesting is - I don't want anything temporary and I don't want to be the one always giving more than receiving.Listen people - I used to ignore being..ignored by others..always being just an option to talk to during tough times or moments of boredom.I was too young to realize that I was never important enough for most people that were a part of my life. I don't know who needs to hear this but..No one is too busy to make time for you! People make excuses to avoid others because they prioritize everything and (maybe) everyone..over them. It's true that most people are busy - but It takes only a few seconds to start a conversation (If you're into short messages) and a few minutes (1-10/15) to type a long message . Don't let anyone lie to you.
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Truth is that most people either don't like you enough to make time for you or just simply - feel no need to talk to others often but are they too busy? No..You don't need to send me a message just to ask me and tell me "Do you really want to talk every day? I like long messages but I can't promise to contact you often" If you really are unsure please don't send me a message.I don't need more acquaintances aka people to talk to - occasionally.
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I'm not trying to sound rude but conversations once or twice a week wouldn't be enough for me and I don't need them... Let me tell you one thing – A true friend would never just give up on you for no reason :) It’s always possible to find someone to have a random conversation with – someone willing to send you one message once or twice a week..but..It’s almost impossible to find people willing to make more time for you.
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I’m not asking a busy person to make time for me by changing some plans! Absolutely not! I’m here to find someone who wants to talk daily (throughout the day or maybe even night) of one’s own will.Someone looking for the same kind of connection.Strong friendships are based on mutual support. One of the best things you can do for a friend in need, is just to be there for them when they want to talk.I often see posts from people who always say how friendless they are because they don't feel loved or appreciated by their "friends" remember! A true friend - someone who truly likes you or someone who wants to get to know you - will always find time for you.
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I'm not interested in small talk/short messages - I love long and meaningful conversations. It's so easy to find someone who loves abbreviations and questions like "How are you?" How was your day? Or what are you interested in? But so hard/almost impossible to find a person who knows how to keep a conversation going & show others some effort.Building and maintaining friendships takes time and effort.Never allow pursuits or possessions to become bigger priorities than your relations with other people.Close friendships are so important to us because they are so difficult to form + Having friends can help you feel as if you belong to something that brings purpose and connection to your life
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• I do NOT respond to any „Hey,hmu” or „u want to talk?” type of messages (super short messages or messages full of abbreviations – I literally can’t stand abbreviations and acronyms in text messages) ALL messages full of abbreviations will immediately be ignored.I also don't like it when people ignore everything I say in private messages just to focus on a random question or? When they start talking only about themselves and don't ever ask me anything. I love conversations with people referring to everything I say...I want everything I say and do - to be reciprocated
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• No NSFW profiles (checking mental health subreddits NOT included as I'm a huge empath and always try to understand others) - Please! I'm not looking for anyone to flirt with and I'm not looking for a partner either. I always check people's profiles (even comment history) - To avoid guys, trying to get inappropriate pictures from adult women or? flirt with them + I don't want to see you with no clothes on so If you're on Reddit only because you want others to see what's underneath your clothes - I'm not for you! I just simply don't want to see any s e x related activity on your profile If you want to talk to me.
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• If both of us (you and I) are from the same country (I live in a non-English speaking country) - I want to communicate with you in our first language! No - Not because I don't understand English - because as you see - I do. Why then? English is simply overrated and people don't appreciate other languages as much as they should. So.. If we're from the same country and you want to talk only in English (which is quite common on reddit) - Talk to someone else. I just don't want to talk to a person from the same country as mine - in a foreign language as It's just something I don't understand even If all you want is to improve your language skills
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• Please only adult people 18-36 (age range) It doesn't matter to me If you're younger or older than me (as long as you're not underage) So.. don't worry! I just want to have discussions with emotionally mature people :)
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• I don’t respond to messages I don’t find interesting even If they're long - If after receiving and reading your message I don't feel comfortable or think "I wouldn't get along with him/her" I simply do not respond (what I’m suggesting is that I don’t always respond to someone’s first or second message because..sometimes you just know If you’d get along with someone or not- I’d never ignore anyone after days or weeks of daily conversations though) just because I don’t want to do anything forcefully & because I don’t want to lead anyone on. I read all messages but I definitely don't respond to all of them! I want to make it clear because I don't want to be accused of not responding and not reading people's messages! - Some people don't message me back as well and even If It's a bit disappointing I'm ok with that! - as long as there's no emotional bond - Not responding to someone's first or second message Is completely OK! If people think they wouldn't get along with a stranger - is there a reason to start a conversation? I don't think so. I can't stand being ignored after days or weeks of daily conversations and seeing people changing priorities over time.. but that's something different - something I don't want to go through ever again for real. If I'm really interested in someone's message it's impossible to hear from me "I'm too busy" because I know myself and If I had no time for others - I wouldn't be here. I don't want to pretend someone I'm not and always try to find some cheap excuses to avoid others. (unlike most people who don't want to talk to others)
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• Don’t ask me “Can you tell me something about yourself?” If you really want to get to know me - you can ask me questions :) I'm an open book.
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• It would be better If you guys were into emojis - like me - to describe your emotions In text messages. Two emojis - 🙂 and 🙁 are completely enough! I just don't like emotionless conversations.I also don't like it when people say "yeah" or yea"as it sounds dismissively. First impression Is everything to me! I want to see your kindness even in a text message - Emojis are very helpful to express your emotions.I don't want to meet people who say "crying Is a weakness" - It's OK to cry even If you're a guy!
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• I want to talk on reddit first (just to make sure If I'd get along with you) before moving to Discord or some other app
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• I would rather talk to a homebody - not another person who always has something to do as people who are very busy don't even have time for daily conversations
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• If you're another person interested only in "childish conversations" such as "HEYOOO! I'M BORED! Ya like Pizza or cheese? xDDDD 🤣" I'm begging you! Don't send me a message.I'm not a child anymore and such messages don't make me smile or laugh.I'm looking for someone interested In serious discussions - not another person just seeking some entertainment out of boredom . Conversations with sarcastic undertones (even when It comes to some emojis such as 🤣😂) are not for me. Your typing style matters to me! Why? when It comes to online conversations with someone new - It's not always possible to know If someone Is laughing at you.. or with you. Let me tell you something else! Jokes about cancer, disabilities and death are UNACCEPTABLE to me. If you find joy In someone else's misfortune you are not a person I want to know.
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• Time response matters to me a lot! I would never ask anyone to be online all day long and I'm NOT asking any of you for any instant messaging as I'm someone who would rather wait an hour or two to receive a proper response instead of some short and pointless messages but I'm interested only in daily conversations and I don't want to wait any longer than 6 hours to get a message from you.I don't need unbelievably long messages either! Messages as long as the second paragraph of my post - are completely enough. If you like longer messages? you can send me a longer message, but If you want to send me one word or one sentence as a response to my post - don't expect a reaction from me. I don't want to come across as rude - I just don't want to waste your time
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• I'm strongly AGAINST picking on people you don't even want to chat with - and making fun of them! I can't stand people who criticize others publicly or make fun of them! (only because they disagree with someone they don't even know) There's no place In my life for someone using Reddit, to hurt other people
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• I'm not into foul language and I definitely don't want to talk to people who swear a lot...
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• I want to meet assertive people who know what they want and always stand up for their friends
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• I want to meet someone willing to call me In the future, someone spontaneously sending me pictures of animals or food, et cetera. I want more than just text conversations.. 🌻
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Why can’t you see any of my hobbies listed down below? Because what really matters to me is..who you are (If you’re honest, talkative ,understanding, caring and trustworthy – for example) just simply – It matters to me what you’re like! not what you like.Don’t get me wrong – you can tell me what your hobbies are but from my point of view - people's hobbies are important - If you want to find a gaming buddy or If you want to meet someone to hang out with in real life and..go bowling for example.What most people seem to care about are other people's passions – I don’t. I get along with other people despite having completely different hobbies but I absolutely don’t get along with people way different than me (different expectations and outlook on life – way different sense of humor or personality traits – It’s just an example) It doesn't make ANY DIFFERENCE to me If you're a gamer or? Someone interested in photography! It doesn't make any difference - > as long as you're talkative and kind and If you also want to find someone willing to stay in your life..for good - But If you're into small talk and all you want is to...type and receive super short messages or If you're here only because you're bored and don't know what to do + If you're a very sarcastic person - I'm definitely not for you! I don't get along with overly sarcastic people turning everything into a joke. Friendships should be natural – not forced. I wouldn't get along with people who laugh at everything.. In my opinion most people are way too sarcastic.. It's quite sad... Sarcasm can also be another form of passive-aggressive behavior.
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People who want to be to friends should feel comfortable and have something in common. No - not necessarily a similar taste in music or movies but something else..Most friendships don't fizzle out because of people not having the same hobbies but..because they just simply have different expectations when It comes to something important.I'm not here out of boredom and trust me - I'm not here to meet as many people as possible.I choose quality over quantity.I highly value myself and my time & Sometimes one person but a person who makes you feel comfortable and understood - is more than enough :) We ALL can choose what kind of people we’d like to talk to and maybe even become really good friends with and I? I don’t want anyone to be disappointed.We all have some expectations after all.I know that people don't have to talk as often as possible in order to become friends but I'm interested only in daily conversations. If you really need someone to talk to due to loneliness and If you have time to talk to me daily (throughout the day and maybe even night) I always make time for others.I'm literally always available.I could even stay up all night long only to talk to someone important to me. I’m ready to commit but only If there’s some chemistry between me and someone else.I don’t do anything forcefully.
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If you want to talk to me tell me your story - tell me why you're here, what kind of friend would you like to meet :) Et cetera.Such messages are way more interesting to me than...someone's long list of hobbies. I know! It's unusual on reddit but I don't make friends based on hobbies..I want to meet someone with the same mindset as mine to finally feel understood and get close to someone new. You can share your problems with me - I absolutely don't mind "complaining" as I've been through a lot in my life.What do people usually tell you when you tell them that something's wrong? "Don't complain" or "Life's not over yet - one day you'll be happy" or "There are worse situations than yours" and..obviously "Find a therapist" Life's not a fairytale and sometimes things don't go as planned.Emotions shouldn't be bottled up.I'm sick of people always telling others "everything's gonna be ok" move on " & more..Trust me people - not everyone wants to hear "Just believe in yourself and everything's gonna be ok" Some people take it as reassurance - but others? They would rather hear something different 🙁Imagine being told that things will be okay, only for them to get worse..Do you guys know why telling someone "everything's gonna be ok" Is wrong? Because you can't see the future.
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You can't guarantee others that one day they'll finally be happy + when It comes to social interactions - We're responsible only for ourselves - not others & as you guys know people let us down quite often (sometimes even when there's no reason) so instead of telling people how they should move on, forget everything and be happy or asking them to find a therapist - be there for them! Always be willing to listen to them If you really like them or want to get to know them & don't suggest everyone in a tough situation to find a therapist because even the best therapist won't ever replace a true friend + It's quite normal to be disappointed If people always do something to hurt you. Sharing your hardships with other people in a very similar situation or exactly the same one - is VERY helpful If the other person understands you & wants to start all over by just letting it all out! Feeling emotional support instead of always hearing some "positive quotes" or someone saying "Stop complaining let's talk about something else - Is very important! "Everyone needs a shoulder to cry on. I appreciate sensitive people who always try to understand others. If after hearing a sad story all you want to say is "forget the past and move on" you're not for me. It's important to be a good listener and provide emotional support to others
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Please - If you're a completely different person than the described type of person I'm looking for (If you love abbreviations,If you don't need a stable friendship, If you're sarcastic and quiet) or If you simply disagree with my post - don't force yourself to send me a message.I want my new potential friendship to be natural which is why I want you to contact me only If your needs are the same - I don't want you to pretend someone you're not - only to please me - Pretending to be someone you're not - is the worst.I want to finally be happy again & find someone "always" wanting to talk - sending me random pictures throughout the day - food pictures or pictures of some animals. What is the most important to me? I want to find people who value online friendships as much as they would value real life ones as there's another human being on the other side
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No comments please.Only Private messages and chat requests 🌺
I know It's possible to meet people with exactly the same expectations as mine but It's just not easy because most people are Interested In temporary and entertaining conversations. People like me are just "different" I really want to finally find someone who loves emojis as much as I do.. someone who loves sweet, warm and serious discussions at the same time. Emojis really do - change conversations 😊

✧༺♥༻
(w) - wattpad (ao3) - ao3 OFC - original female character ———-

• [x] The seven devils (w)

pairing; Tom/ OFC
Rating: 10/10
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• [x] The seven virtues (w) (second book)

pairing; tom/ OFC
Rating: 9/10
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• [x] Hierchy of need (w)

pairing; tom/ OFC
Rating: 7/10
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• [x] Invictus: (ao3)

pairing; Tom/ Hermione
Rating: 7/10
—————————

• [x ] A burnt child loves fire (ao3)

pairing; Tom/ GB harry
Rating: 8/10
(i love this one, grindelwald is a parental figure to aster, the dynamic is so interesting)
—————————

• [x] Wear me like a locket around your throat (ao3)

pairing; Tom/ Harry
Rating: 6/10
—————————

• [x] Heir Apparent(ao3)

pairing; Tom/ Harry (tw: incest….. yea.. 😭)
Rating: 10/10
(deffo a 10/10 this one was so good)
————————

• [x] equals in life, partners in death (ao3)

pairing; tom/ harry
Rating: 10/10 (comfort fic)
(this is the most comforting fic ever, one of the first i read and i’ve re read about 12 times lol)
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• [x] if thems the rules (ao3)

pairing; Tom/ harry
Rating: 9/10
————————

• [x] blood and gold (ao3)

pairing; Tom/ Hermione
Rating: 10/10
✧༺♥༻∞
please leave your thoughts/ratings below and feel free to suggest more! <3

✧༺♥༻
(w) - wattpad (ao3) - ao3 OFC - original female character ———-

• [x] The seven devils (w)

pairing; Tom/ OFC
Rating: 10/10
—————————

• [x] The seven virtues (w) (second book)

pairing; tom/ OFC
Rating: 9/10
—————————

• [x] Hierchy of need (w)

pairing; tom/ OFC
Rating: 7/10
————————

• [x] Invictus: (ao3)

pairing; Tom/ Hermione
Rating: 7/10
—————————

• [x ] A burnt child loves fire (ao3)

pairing; Tom/ GB harry
Rating: 8/10
(i love this one, grindelwald is a parental figure to aster, the dynamic is so interesting)
—————————

• [x] Wear me like a locket around your throat (ao3)

pairing; Tom/ Harry
Rating: 6/10
—————————

• [x] Heir Apparent(ao3)

pairing; Tom/ Harry (tw: incest….. yea.. 😭)
Rating: 10/10
(deffo a 10/10 this one was so good)
————————

• [x] equals in life, partners in death (ao3)

pairing; tom/ harry
Rating: 10/10 (comfort fic)
(this is the most comforting fic ever, one of the first i read and i’ve re read about 12 times lol)
————————

• [x] if thems the rules (ao3)

pairing; Tom/ harry
Rating: 9/10
————————

• [x] blood and gold (ao3)

pairing; Tom/ Hermione
Rating: 10/10
✧༺♥༻∞
please leave your thoughts/ratings below and feel free to suggest more! <3