This woman I know Might grow a halo
This woman's strength is as gentle as divine grace. Delicate yet resilient it grows. It eminates and resonates from her spirit and warms this space. Her mind is powerful, her voice bright. Her rage like a sneeze outright, causing my heart to freeze on sight. Her laugh a breeze that puts me at peace with ease. Just one look can and does bring me to my knees. Her eyes a soft glow. Unmistakable light Her faith deeply overflows. Unfuckwithable might. Her manner is polite her grip upright is like her will is tight Her whip is her tongue and in a fight one slip up and it's a beat down all night A hip with one hand delight she trips all demons apart insight No lip just a prayer that bites from a snip of her spirits flight Like a icebergs tip She amens the last rite and rip. Nothing that feeds off of fright just a light inside no one can nip.
This woman's courage bubbles from a celestial sea It's liquidity and intensity clearly shows. A beacon with such tender propensity the gravity of her kindness black holes.
This woman's spirit has an overwhelmingly nurturing nature. She the reason the devil hates her uncontrollably enduring structure.
This woman's divinity has purity thats irresistibly the opposite of evil an unforgettably flourishing rapture.
This woman's beauty has a hard expression it leaves you with the unmistakable impression that she's gotten used to licking wounds and hounds demons for the sake of every ignorant person clueless and oblivious like me from an Incursion of perversion while I'm head of heels in hells diversion.
This woman I know Might wave tomorrow

I (33f) and my husband (34m) have been in a commitment and solid relationship since we were 18.
If you need background on our relationship read this or skip ahead:
Background: We met online in a game in two separate states. We moved in together in his state and got married in court during lockdown in 2021. Neither of us are close with our families because of their extremely conservative and religious convictions. I am romantically attracted to women more than sexually which I confessed to my husband at a later time in our relationship. I didn’t have and don’t have any interest in other women since we met. I later shared with him my spiritual beliefs and practices as a witch that I suppressed since I was caught by my mother as a teenager. I was shammed a lot for being me growing up. I grew up in a very emotionally unstable home. I also did not receive the supports I needed as a child with adhd and autism that developed anxiety and depression. There is a lot behind that but it is what it is at this point. This being said, my dad also has adhd and mental illnesses that he would display with subtle to full outbursts of anger and my mom unresolved childhood neglect and bullying and what I believe to be some form(s) of intellectual deficits which severely affected her self esteem and her almost unhealthy strong attachment to me. So I grew up to be a clusterfuck of mental, emotional, developmental and spiritual instability. I was also bullied and suffered betrayals from friendships because of various factors often due to my neurodivergent behaviors. So as to be expected, I 100% formed an anxious attachment style. Please look it up so you are familiar with this. It’s a big part of the conundrum I’m in.
(DISCLAIMER: I’m not into the evil fuckery type magic btw… I’m the kind of witch that practices moon magic with lots of love, light and blessings n all that shit - yes I’m in a pissy mood from all of this so you’ll be getting that sort of spice throughout). .
.
.
If you skipped ahead it starts here:
My husband had slowly loosened up on his own strict conservative programming since he started seeing me become happier and more secure in myself since I started practicing my personal spirituality again and dropping my “mask” more often and being that weird quirky neurodivergent girl more openly and working so hard on myself to overcome my childhood traumas and the shame that stifled my authentic self. And that was great! Until it wasn’t for me in our monogamous relationship.
He guilted me (unintentionally) into having a threesome 2x with a woman who we ended up having a sort of friendship afterword but I was always very mentally off put by it but faked being ok for a while. After each of the 2x weeks apart, I became very emotionally numb to my husband. Like my heart literally froze and I was feeling almost like a cold-hearted bitch, even telling my husband I wanted a divorce. Mind you, he was in a bad mental state at this time in which I didn’t really know because he never truly expressed his actual emotions much. I found out later that he had been feeling pretty severe distress from his mom who has been making horrible mistakes and acting like a spoiled child begging him for money and complaining to him about her constant fights with her sister who was like a second mom to him in which he kept being placed in the center. I have my own traumas from her due to a psychiatric break she had which was slowly building that we weren’t aware of until she snapped fully disconnecting from reality and the entire time I was the center of her hostilities, likely because I was taking her baby boy from her - if you’re Hispanic, you understand this atrocity I was committing 🙄. My poor husband was under her thumb to the point he was completely sheltered and dependent on her - as a full grown man in his 20s until I literally helped him become an independent man in thought and lifestyle. So imagine that stress being in the middle and then having me add in to that with my constant complaining and irritation with his mom’s bs affecting us constantly in one way or another.
And then ADD TO THAT he was suffering severe caregiver burnout because I’ve been chronically ill since we met and still in that stage where all my doctors were telling me I was just anxious so they didn’t have to actually do their due diligence, which was then exacerbated significantly after I was in a car accident and they couldn’t figure out was was wrong for almost 2-3 years until I got the right care and back on my feet- kind of. I have been off and on disability - including a SI attempt last March - for about 6 yrs now. So my husband has been my main support for almost 12-13 years of our relationship. I obviously am not close to my parents (and because my dads a money hungry idiot I was always moving around California for his next big promotion which separated me at 7yrs old from my then 22yr old sister and her 2yr old daughter).
When he finally broke down and told me, we had a long and difficult talk with so many tears and a bit step toward healing ourselves individually and as partners. Don’t get me wrong, we had our fair share of misunderstandings and issues but we always came together stronger and closer. I thought before this significant issue that I had the most wonderful and strong marriage in the world. I mean, not only was he still there, but he helped me get back up every time I wanted to give up which allowed me so much success and the ability to purchase our 2nd home by the time we were 32yrs old. The 1st house we had to sell because of the accident and we hit rock bottom, and then we got this one a year ago and almost lost it again due to my health.
We worked to a point where we were happy again. Like the kids who met and fell in love 15yrs ago. We just had the PERFECT date day (we had 6 separate exciting things packed into that day). At the end of the night we walked around the lake by our house and sat down on a bench overlooking the water when after some time snuggling and laughing and talking about our day…. He confessed something major to me. Something that has made me feel that slipping of warmth in my heart for him once again.
He brought up the poly thing again. But this time, he said after much research and soul searching, he identifies as polyamorous. I asked him if he meant he wanted just flings or something with other people or if he meant… romantic relationships as well. With sadness in his voice he confirmed. He wanted a romantic relationship outside of me. This is why he hadn’t been wearing his wedding ring in a long time. It started during to his skin condition on his hand but when it healed he lied and said it bothers his hand whenever I’d ask after that.
I know he will always keep me as the permanent primary partner I guess they call it, but I just can’t get over this intense sense of anger, jealousy, fear of abandonment. Remember that anxious-attachment style? Well this is the WORST NIGHTNARE for someone with that type of attachment.
It feels almost like he punched me square in the chest with all his strength and this boy has some serious biceps. I love him so much and as much as I want to tell him no, that I am his wife and I will be the only one because HE is MY husband, that would lead to that awful resentment we both held for what felt like ages. You know that saying? If you love them, let them go? That’s how I feel. He has made it so clear he will always be at my side and that his love for me is everything. But he can’t deny who he is and I can’t rip that part out of him and burn it until not even ashes remain.
I know he would be a complete and utter mess if I divorced him, but I feel so devastated. He has done so much research and I asked him to give me the resources he said he’d collected for me to understand him and what this whole polyamory thing is. I love this man with all of my being. He’s my soulmate. Or I guess… was.
I don’t want to feel this way but I don’t know how I’m going to get over this right now. We talked about couples counseling but my heart and anxiety want to just throw in the towel to avoid any more pain.
****I’m so sorry for the long and possibly over encumbered post…
But, AITA for wanting to shut down and kick my loving husband to the curb? ****
Any advice for this anxiously attached, autistic wife married to a monogamous and now polygamous husband would be so appreciated.
Edit: he only wants to see a partner WE BOTH are into. But I want to punch the shit out of every imaginary man or woman who would dare steal any millisecond of my man’s affection.

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Author’s Notes:
Finally, I’m back yet again! I finally got the time to write this wonderful little story project again; Senior year of high school has me super busy. I’ll be leaving for Air Force Basic Training in early June to go be a 5th Gen Crew Chief, so expect a roughly 5-6 month hiatus until I can keep writing.
I also got a PS2 emulator running on my PC, so I did a playthrough of each of the three Ace Combat games featured for that console, as well as 7 and Project Wingman. In later parts, you’ll definitely be able to tell the inspiration I got from all of the games.
I forgot to mention this in my last part, but last year I was able to head to Norfolk and see the USS George Washington in person, which was really cool. Writing about it is one thing, but actually getting to go on it and walk around was another experience entirely.
This part was kind of hastily put together to give you guys something to read, since It’s been way too long since I got a part for you. Once I get time after BMT and Tech School, I’ll continue and eventually finish off the story (If I can fit it in between doing MX stuff all day). Story wise, this part is just a setup for the massive port raid that will happen in the next part; I’m planning 2 more parts after that to finish off the story. Overall this project’s been fun, but I have to cap it off eventually.
Happy Reading!
…
“Alright, settle down, settle down.”
All the members of VF-102 quickly stopped talking to each other and looked towards the front of the room.
The CO then pulled down the paper map attached to the ready room wall. He pointed to the large port city that was slightly inland and surrounded by topographical marks denoting mountainous terrain on all sides.
“Before we can hit their fleet in port, we have to get through their coastal defenses.”
The CO pointed to a narrow stretch of water on the map that opened up into the large bay.“
“The kingdom we’re up against were smart with their port city positioning; they have an island in the middle of this strait with a heavy stone fortress on it. From the imagery we were able to collect on it, the fort apparently acts as a naval defense platform for their main port city. In conjunction with the strait, it’s a perfect defensive position to lock down entry and exit into the bay. We’re going to hit the fort today before we hit their fleet early tomorrow.”
Each pilot and RIO nodded in understanding.
“We’re sending four of you up as a two-ship strike package alongside VFA-86. Those assigned to hop today are going to get MK83s with Snakeyes to do the initial strike, and then the Hornets are going to mop up with some Mavericks and Rockeyes. The rest of you flying today are going to run the usual CAP up along the coastline.”
The CO gave out crew assignments for the fort strike package, which included Type and Wizard in Diamondback 110, and another Tomcat crew in Diamondback 113.
“The fort island is roughly Alcatraz Island-sized, so four MK83s rippled should be sufficient enough to crack the outer walls of the fort. Just be careful, as we don’t know if they have any Triple-A or not. Other than that, you guys are dismissed. Good luck out there.”
Type and Wizard hopped up and headed out of the ready room with the other VF-102 pilots and RIOs following. They weaved through the narrow gray halls of the carrier slipping past Sailors while hanging onto their flight bags and helmets.
…
As the evening sun shined down on the carrier deck, Type walked up to the Plane Captain waiting next to Diamondback 110.
“Hi, how’s it going?”
“All good sir, we just pulled the pins and the Ordnance guys just finished up fitting on the Sparrows.”
“Perfect, let’s get rolling with the preflight.”
The Plane Captain nodded, and got to work doing the final preflight check alongside Type and Wizard.
…
After the preflight, Type and Wizard both climbed the ladders to the aircraft and got seated. Both of them fit on their Woodland camouflage-covered helmets and flipped down the dark visors. Type ran through the comms check with Wizard, and started up the aircraft.
After the aircraft was started and all the systems were good, the Sailors on deck pulled out the cart connections and drove it away. Wizard dropped the canopy, and the Director in front marshaled them out from their parking spot.
…
Lining up on Catapult 4 behind 113, Type watched as two of the VFA-86 F/A-18Cs on Catapults 1 and 2 were tandem launched with the other two Hornets waiting behind the blast deflectors. Type brought the Tomcat through the catapult connection process, with the Shooter signaling him in.
…
Both Shooters for 3 and 4 signaled for engine start right as both blast panels were raised. The Cat 3 Shooter knelt down and sent his arm forward, followed by the Cat 4 Shooter.
113 was sent from the deck first, with 110 following soon after. Wizard gripped his handlebars as the Tomcat rattled with the catapult launch, while Type applied backwards stick pressure as soon as the Tomcat left the deck. He quickly pulled the gear switch up as well, rolling left with 113 right as the gear doors sealed.
…
Coming high to Angels 6 at Mil Power, both 102 Tomcats formed up with the Hornets that had CBUs equipped; Sidewinder 402 and 406. The other two Hornets with Mavericks on their wings, Sidewinder 404 and 411, caught up and formed up behind them.
The six-ship traversed north at 450 knots before reaching 5 miles out from the fort.
…
Before they descended in, each aircraft engaged their Master Arm switches and readied up their ordnance. 404 and 411 warmed up their Mavericks, while 113, 110, 402, and 406 each readied up their bombs.
“Warden, 113, Master Arm on.”
“110, Master Arm.”
Type had ‘ORD’ indicated on his HUD, with the impact point cross displayed on the lower end.
In the back, Wizard flicked the weapons station switches for the centerline pylons on and rotated the bomb selector to the ‘Ripple’ setting.
“Scope’s clear, hit the deck and ingress. Cleared hot on target.”
“113 Roger, goin’ in.”
Diamondback 113 pitched down and broke through the heavy cloud layer, with each aircraft following. Each of them reached roughly 500 feet off the water’s surface and leveled off. Sidewinder 404 and 411 split left and right to line up their Mavericks.
Right before they encountered the fort, each pilot noticed a large stone bridge spanning the length of the bay with 113 doing a full 360-degree right roll as the flight passed over it.
402 and 406 slowed down ready to lob their Rockeyes up and into the fort, while 110 and 113 made slight adjustments to line up with the west and east wall lengths of the fort.
Popping up extremely low over the fort’s walls, the Tomcats started the strike.
“Ready for drop….Shit, that’s flak!”
On the walls of the fort, cannon operators quickly tried to react to the airstrike by raising their flak cannons towards the incoming aircraft. Some of them opened up, creating thin stretches of black flak puffs around the four fighter aircraft rapidly approaching.
113 made it over the western wall stretch and dropped their four MK83s, which opened their fins and slowed down behind the aircraft.
With a small delay, Type pulled the trigger for weapons release. Both him and Wizard audibly heard ThThThThunk come from the underside of their aircraft.
“Pickle, Pickle, Pickle!”
…
On the top of the fort walls, archers and flak cannon operators watched with fear-filled wide eyes as large green cylinders with fins slowly came down on them. They accepted their fate as they detonated on impact, blowing stone everywhere and collapsing the wall sections. Ammunition dumps in the walls detonated with a chain reaction, causing even more destruction.
…
The pilot of Sidewinder 404 finished up locking his target on the island; a large naval cannon reminiscent of an Ottoman siege cannon. Looking at his MFD, he noted the lock indication for his Maverick and hit the weapon release, calling out:
“404, Rifle, East Cannon.”
The AGM-65F ignited and slid off its rail with its optics focusing directly on the massive naval cannon, impacting it a short time later. Soon after, a Maverick from Sidewinder 411 impacted the large cannon on the west side of the island, blowing it to bits.
“Shack Cannons, 404, defending Triple-A…”
…
The other two Hornets pitched up into burner with both pilots attempting to line up their HUD CCIP markers on the center of the fort.
As they popped up, the flak started to get more intense. Both pilots pushed into burner to drop quickly.
“406, Pickle!”
“402, Pickle…”
The CBU-100s detached from underneath the Hornets, coming in an upwards arc over the fort. Each bomb split open, releasing a large amount of smaller bomblets which coated the fort’s central structure. Anything or anyone in the blast radius was now dust.
“406, egressing-”
As Sidewinder 406 split left, the Hornet flew through a flak burst and took structural damage. The cockpit was penetrated by metal shards, impacting the pilot in his left arm and torso. He also took hits to the left end of his helmet, with his visor becoming cracked.
“Shit, I’m hit!”
…
Type and Wizard listened over the radio while climbing up back over the clouds with the rest of the aircraft, getting more and more concerned as 406 seethed in pain. Each aircraft was able to egress successfully, but Sidewinder 406 was trailing smoke and was starting to have engine issues as well.
“Warden, 406…..Took a hit…”
“406, Warden copies.”…
Warden relayed the information back to the controllers onboard CVN-73, who scrambled the Crash Teams for the hit Hornet. Sidewinder 406 was brought to the front of the pattern, and lined up for a trap. Getting the most assistance out of his aircraft systems as he could, he successfully put down the Hornet with a 1-wire while fighting his bleeding and severe pain.
A tug quickly pulled the Hornet out of the landing area, allowing the rest of the aircraft to trap. As the canopy raised, the Crash Team Sailors in their silver firefighting equipment pulled the injured pilot out, who was clutching his bleeding shoulder.
…
As Type and Wizard trapped and taxied off of the wires, they looked at the empty and damaged Hornet sitting off to the side.
“Man, hope he’s alright…”
“Yeah, too damn close today.”
They parked their Tomcat, and shut down the aircraft.
…
In the ready room, the CO went over the HUD footage from 110 and 113 for the debrief.
“That’s a mission success, we took out the fort and we have an open path for the port strike in sixteen hours. The only issue is, one of 82’s guys was hit during the strike. Thank God he made it back alive; it would’ve been bad had we lost him out here.”…
With the naval fort down, CVW-1 has a clear opening into the enemy kingdom’s main port for their anti-shipping strike. The injured Hornet pilot serves as a warning for all of them:
This conflict won’t be an easy one.

Author's Note:
7700 words, broke Reddit's character limit, so you know the drill. Will be split into two parts, both posted today. Enjoy!
​
--
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"Stop! STOP!"
The terror in Kismet's voice rose higher as death drew nearer. He fled from Rob's grasping hand, but a Purge Divinity-infused fingernail managed to graze him, carving out a scoop of divine essence as if flaying a mortal's skin.
Kismet let out a screech as the Purging energy added to his growing collection of scars. A dozen small holes now dotted the surface of his mana-body, looking like he'd been pockmarked by wasting disease. Each wound represented a moment where the god had narrowly escaped with his life.
If those injuries had been inflicted by any other ability, then he could have rejuvenated himself in the time it took to blink. Purging energy was not so kind as that. It was purifying wrath in the shape of a Skill; their vengeance given form. Whatever divinity it touched, it extinguished.
As if cleansing the universe of a sickness that had infected it for far too long.
The BERSERKER continued his unrelenting advance. In response, Kismet threw up a frantic barrier of mana. It was strong enough to deflect one of Ragnavi's Annihilation beams–
And Rob blasted through it like paper mache. His charge sent broken shards of energy scattering across the divine realms. More mid-air rifts tore open, the HUMAN's aura strangling the surrounding area in a vice grip of power. Purge Divinity seemed to glow with light emanating straight from the pits of hell.
None of which was anywhere near as unnerving as the murder contained within his piercing gaze. When Kismet met Rob's eyes, he saw the end of eternity fast approaching.
The god's next barrier was just as frantic. However, this one was not comprised of mana, but of solid matter. Kismet summoned the hardest, most dense substance known to the mortal realms, then transmuted it into something that otherwise could only have been forged inside the heart of a dying star. It was many times more durable than the impossibly tough walls of an aberrant Dungeon.
So when Rob demolished it with a single punch, he actually had to put a bit of elbow grease into his windup.
Another wall materialized in front of him. He crushed it, then the one after, and the one after that, lashing out with bestial ferocity. The BERSERKER plowed through Kismet's hastily-built defenses like a bulldozer of fists and savagery. Rob was knocking them down as quickly as the god could make them, relishing the sensation of being able to vent his anger on targets that weren't fucking running away.
Then the twelfth wall fell – revealing a monstrous, spiky, fanged behemoth concealed behind.
Rob paused, momentarily taken aback at the sight of a mundane creature within the divine realms. 'Mundane' in relative terms, anyway. This monster was on par with a newborn Blight, radiating power that would have sent ordinary fighters sprinting for the hills.
It was also barely cognizant of its surroundings. The monster stared at him with unblinking, vacant eyes, just the tiniest glimmer of awareness present in its gaze. Rob noted that segments of its flesh were bubbling, as if the creature was fresh out of the oven and still needed to settle.
He couldn't help but feel a modicum of pity. This was yet another thoughtless creation, condemned to existence by an uncaring maker. Even monsters deserved better than that.
Rob caved the beast's head in before it could realize that it was alive. Pity was not the same as hesitation, and this was the only mercy he could afford to grant right now.
Didn't matter. Kismet's pawn served its purpose. In the brief instant that Rob spent getting over his initial surprise, the god had teleported to safety. He was already planning his next stunt that could buy him a few precious seconds of survival.
The HUMAN grimaced as he turned to give chase, unable to suppress the burgeoning sense of unease growing within his chest.
It almost didn't seem fair to feel that way. Rob knew he was winning – at least on the surface. Any outside observer would've bet their life savings on him, especially after the show of overwhelming superiority he'd just displayed. Kismet had been at a disadvantage before Never Forget Your Rage's recent upswing, and now it was no contest. Rob was confident that he would still be stronger even if the eight gods merged into one super-deity.
He also knew that he was living on borrowed time.
Whenever he moved, or activated a Skill, or even breathed...the sensation was there. Strength accompanied by incongruous frailty. Like background noise that kept getting louder with every action he took. His body felt close to pulling itself apart, as if his very molecules were a hairsbreadth away from coming undone.
It was different from Soul Instability. Whereas that threatened to collapse his soul, this frailty was an affliction of the flesh. The longer he fought, the more his physical form was at risk of popping like a balloon.
Such was the price of constraining godlike power within a mortal shell.
"Stay back!" Unaware of the turmoil fermenting in his assailant's mind, Kismet threw up his hands and...inverted...space? Rob didn't have a name for what he was seeing. Rather than stopping to puzzle out this latest brand of divine bullshit, he sent out a pulse of Purge Divinity, canceling whatever esoteric effect Kismet had been attempting to produce.
His Purging energy scraped against the divine realms like a cheese grater. Five rifts immediately tore open near both Rob and Kismet, with the god anxiously retreating from one that appeared just inches away from him. A low rumble echoed around them, and for a moment, they felt struck by an abrupt feeling of vertigo – until the realms gradually stabilized, righting once more.
For now.
Rob eyed the rifts with a detached, clinical gaze. An endless sea of mana resided behind them; the bedrock of the system itself. While he recognized that the rifts tearing open was bad news, he also couldn't really muster the energy to care. Between his overflowing rage, overtaxed body, and overburdened soul, minor details like the impending destruction of reality were hard to give much focus.
There was a way to fix all of that, of course. Rob couldn't outright deactivate Never Forget Your Rage – not without losing its bonus stats. But he could attempt to ease the storm of fury in his heart. By lessening his anger to more reasonable levels, Never Forget Your Rage would put less strain on both his body and the divine realms.
The notion forced a peal of hideous laughter to claw out of his throat. Lessen his anger? He'd have better luck trying to douse a volcano with a garden hose. No. For a wildfire that had grown this out of control, the only thing to do was stand aside and let it burn, burn, burn.
Until naught remained.
"I said stay back!" Kismet bellowed. He lifted his arms into the air. "Begone!" One moment later, Rob's vision was filled with scorching light. An apocalyptic geyser of mana burst forth from underfoot, intense and searing. It stripped the flesh from his bones in no time flat, powering through Almighty Resistance with pure, unmitigated violence.
And it still wasn't fast enough. Rob flickered a Purge Divinity shield for just an instant, allowing him to escape the geyser with his upper body – and most of his HP – intact. Lifesurge swiftly patched him up, leaving both combatants right back where they'd started.
Slowly, Kismet lowered his hands. They were shivering. "What are you?" he whispered. "Why are all my efforts in vain?"
To be honest, Rob was mildly impressed that Kismet had held on for this long. The god's combat efficacy was increasing as time passed, improving from panic-spamming teleports to more inventive maneuvers – as if he was learning how to fight on-the-job. He'd also stopped draining the other gods to supplement his power, having found an alternative source of fuel: mana seeping out from the sporadically-opening rifts.
It was the one silver lining to fighting an implacable BERSERKER so powerful that he fractured reality. Whenever Rob utilized Purge Divinity, more rifts opened up in the realms, and more mana leaked out from inside. The gods had invested that energy into the system millennia ago, and it typically would've been off-limits until they closed up shop and left Elatra. Kismet was making use of it now, absorbing the extra mana to strengthen himself, like a lifeline barely keeping him afloat.
The god's tenacity was...calling it 'admirable' would be going too far, but it did warrant a sort of begrudging respect. As someone who'd tangoed with multiple Blights, Rob knew what it was like to square off against a frenzied beast that could end him with a touch.
Being the scary one was a nice change of pace.
In exchange, Kismet had graciously donned the role of their battle's Combat Class user; fragile, outgunned, and pulling improvised maneuvers out of his ass for a chance at victory. The god could finally feel what it was like to be vulnerable. How exciting! Rob was more than happy to assist. Learning experiences such as these only came around once an eternity or so.
Flippancy aside – while Kismet still possessed room for improvement, this was the most that could be asked of a deity who hadn't seen combat in literal eons. His biggest fuckup had been taunting Rob in the wrong ways, but he couldn't have known about Never Forget Your Rage, that was an excusable oversight. By all other accounts, Kismet was performing adequately.
Even so...
"YoU aRE noTHinG."
The sound of Rob's voice caused two fresh rifts to open up. Kismet flinched, casting a teleportation spell out of pure reflex. Without pause, the HUMAN resumed his hunt.
Nothing. Perhaps that statement was hyperbole – yet it rang true nonetheless. While Kismet may have been a creature of supreme divinity, on the field of battle, his pedigree meant nothing. In the face of an implacable, unstoppable foe, his power was worth nothing. Very soon, he would be nothing, consigned to oblivion by Purging energy.
Rob couldn't help but unfavorably compare Kismet to the final Blight. Weren't these supposed to be two sides of the same coin? Each one-half of an original transcendent Will? Yet the Second Will had brought Rob to the edge of despair...and Kismet was fleeing like a cornered rodent. It was difficult to reconcile the two divinities as theoretical equals.
Although he knew that was an unfair comparison. Rob had fought the Blight before learning Limit Break and Never Forget Your Rage. Kismet wasn't weak.
The HUMAN was just far too strong.
If he rematched the Second Will today, he would beat it to death with his bare hands.
"Look at what you've wrought!" Kismet swept an arm out, gesturing towards some of the many rifts that Rob's presence was tearing open. "Do you understand what will transpire if you persist in this folly?! If the divine realms shatter, then so will all of Elatra! You are on the brink of destroying everything which you have striven to protect! Cease this–"
"CAN'T."
In a flash, Rob dashed forward and scooped out a chunk of the god's mana-body with Purge Divinity. Before he could do more, Kismet shrieked with pain and teleported away, leaving the BERSERKER to crush his prize between five clenched fingers.
"FoRCed mY HAnD." He located Kismet again. "NO GOING BACK."
Stopping wasn't an option. If the divine realms crumbled and Elatra imploded...well, that would be a faster end than what the gods had in store for its people. At least this way their deaths would be quick and hopefully painless – and his friends wouldn't be turned into Skills tortured for all eternity.
Still, Kismet did have a point. Destroying reality wasn't exactly the ideal outcome. There had to be a way to speed up the conclusion of their fight. Rob was certain he would win if given enough time, but he couldn't guarantee it would be before either his body or the divine realms collapsed.
{Ascend.}
Like a snake slithering through a minefield, Leveling High skirted past the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions raging within Rob's mind. He attempted to tune out its voice, yet Humanity's curse refused to be denied, the static loudening until he was compelled to respond. Quit distracting me, he snapped. In case you haven't noticed, I'm FUCKING. BUSY.
{You seek to ensure victory over those who rule above,} Leveling High continued, without missing a step. {As do I.}
Then sit back, shut up, and–
{Ignoring your deficiencies will not make them disappear. This body is...feeble. Incomplete. Unfit to wield the power contained therein. Like a polished sword attached to a brittle hilt, liable to snap in twain at any moment.}
Rob grit his teeth. He couldn't deny Leveling High's assertions. Normally he'd just tell it to piss off, but considering how much was at stake here...
With a feeling like he'd sat down to deal with the devil, Rob sighed. Then what do you propose? That we upgrade my body somehow? I don't think putting more points into Vitality would help, even if I had any to spare. Me being so juiced up on stats is half the problem.
It shook its head. {You have far surpassed the limitations of mortality. Strengthening your power further would be akin to pouring water into an overflowing cup.}
So we...what, increase the size of the cup?
Static akin to laughter echoed inside his head. {We do away with it entirely.}
An icy chill began creeping up Rob's spine, as if the cold hands of fate were working their way towards his neck. He recalled a system notification from days before – 'Your Race has morphed from Human (?) to: Ascending HUMAN'.
Not Ascended. Ascending.
Weeks-old memories came surging to the forefront. 'The Heartkiller is closer to our form of life than those you call friends,' the Blight-child of Elysium had once said. 'As long as you continue to live, eventually, you will become an existence with the power to crush the Others and free the Skills from their shackles. You are no longer one of the Ephemeral. Now, you are a cocoon, metamorphosing into something grander. When you emerge, you will be as the Eternal.'
The Blight-child had laughed at him, then. 'After joining us, preserving these worlds will no longer be your desire.'
Rob grimaced. Denied, he flatly told Leveling High. Whatever you're about to suggest isn't happening.
It scoffed at him. {Your prejudices blind you. Do you think the gods have need of physical bodies? Does it hinder them in any capacity? No – the opposite. By definition, infinity cannot be constrained. Discard this useless flesh, and your conquest of the divine realms is assured.}
Maybe you didn't hear me when I said–
{By all means. Spurn my counsel...and condemn your friends to death. Shall their lives be worth it, in the end?}
Rob sucked in air through clenched teeth.
{Ascend.} Leveling High purred with anticipation. {You are bound by a prison of meat, bone, and blood. Break free. Finish what has already begun. Gaze upon the tapestry of infinity in all its dreadful splendor. Seize victory not as a Human, but as a completed, transcendent HUMAN.}
With a scream to drown out the static, Rob chased after Kismet again and again. The god was in full-on panic mode, eschewing offensive attacks in favor of perpetual retreat, focused wholly on keeping the BERSERKER as far away as possible. He would teleport the instant that Rob laid eyes on him, frantically stalling for his life.
It was – quite unintentionally – providing evidence to Leveling High's claims. If Kismet was on the defensive, catching him would take time they might not have.
I... Rob narrowed his eyes. How would I finish Ascending, anyway? It isn't like I can just flip a switch and make it happen.
{Incorrect.}
He blinked. WHAT?
{You have long since achieved the qualifications for true godhood,} Leveling High explained, in a lecturing tone. {There is no milestone that remains necessary to achieve. Rather than needing to overcome some hurdle of strength or power, the obstacle barring your path is more...arbitrary. Self-imposed.}
Humanity's curse seemed to peer into his soul. When it spoke next, its voice was filled with disgust. {You remain mortal because you wish to do so – both consciously and subconsciously. The Ascension of a nascent deity has been obstructed by cheap sentimentality.}
Rob almost started an argument over its usage of 'cheap', but he exercised restraint, keenly aware that there was bigger fish to fry. Can't do anything about the subconscious. I am \not* activating Melancholy Resistance.*
{Nor should you,} Leveling High remarked, shuddering at the prospect. {A grand statement of intent will be sufficient to shift your mentality. I believe...yes.}
The static churned like a hive of buzzing wasps. {When you next tear off a piece of the leader god's mana...even if just a sliver...devour it. Gorge yourself on their essence.}
Bile threatened to rise to the top of Rob's throat. Seems excessive, he mused, trying and failing to keep his tone lighthearted. To become a god, I eat a god? Wouldn't that make me a divine cannibal?
{You ARE a cannibal.} Leveling High's voice wavered, its veneer of helpfulness slipping to reveal the madness that lay beneath. {What do you think you've been DOING for nearly a YEAR? You kill, ingest your prey's Experience, and MAKE THEIR POWER YOUR OWN. This world is one of consumption and parasitism – devouring a god's essence is merely a more HONEST variant of THE SAME actions.}
...You clearly weren't paying attention during Diplomacy's PR lessons. Rob pursued Kismet once again, pressing his fingernails into his palms when the god hurriedly teleported away. There is such a thing as being too straightforward. If you want people to listen to you, then maybe dress up your words so they don't sound so horrifying.
{BUT AM I WRONG?}
Rob had no answer to that.
Bolts of divine mana peppered his skin. Kismet had barely managed to squeeze an attack in-between his escapes. The bolts ricocheted off Rob's skin like ping-pong balls, leaving minor scrapes and nothing more. It wasn't anywhere close to bypassing Almighty Resistance and his massive HP pool.
Yet it also reminded him of the mana-spears that Kismet had sent towards the rest of Riardin's Rangers. His Party members only possessed a shared, diluted version of Almighty Resistance, and their HP was a fraction of his. If Kismet aimed another attack of that caliber at them...how many would perish, right then and there?
Was Leveling High correct? What point was there to sentimentality if it just got his friends killed?
In truth, Rob knew that it didn't really matter if he completed his Ascension. Based on what he had planned for himself after the gods were dead, little would change either way. Still...he also knew that Ascending would be a one-way trip. No take-backs. If he went through with it, a fundamental part of him would be irrevocably altered.
Something twinged in a corner of his mind. It wasn't Leveling High, or his rage, or any of the other emotions currently dominating his headspace. This was a familiar friend; perhaps Rob's #1 most trusted confidant since he'd first set foot in Elatra. One that had rarely ever steered him wrong.
Paranoia.
And at the moment, it was telling him to be very careful before jumping into the deep end.
Ten teleports.
{What?}
Give it ten more Kismet teleports, Rob said. If I haven't dealt him a serious injury by then....I'll do what I need to do. He grimaced as Kismet vanished before he'd even finished the thought. Ten starting now.
Leveling High's static quieted. It resembled a patron at a restaurant who'd ordered their meal, and was waiting patiently for the main course to arrive.
Rob didn't waste time being offended over its nonchalance. Free of distractions, he immediately swept his gaze across the divine realms, pinpointing his quarry in a micro-instant. The BERSERKER dashed forward, pushing his body as far as he could, layering Rampages on top of Dexterity that made the laws of physics want to curl up and weep.
Kismet was prepared. He'd drawn more mana from the fractured rifts, quickening his speed and reactions. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep his head above water, not yet outpaced by their continually escalating arms race.
The HUMAN struck, the god fled, and both were left in the same position as before.
{One.}
Rob turned on a dime, charging without needing to look. He'd heard the moment that Kismet's teleport ended. It afforded him a split-second head start.
A gravity well suddenly appeared below his feet, as if a miniaturized black hole was weighing him down. Apparently, Kismet had set it up ahead of time as a just-in-case trap. Rob pierced through the spell's area of effect before it could ramp up to something dangerous, but his pace was slowed by a hair in the process, and his prey escaped.
{Two.}
You know what? Screw this. Rob whirled away from Kismet's newest location and blasted straight towards one of the lesser deities that his Party members were fighting.
He'd been too hung up on getting even with a hated foe – when there were seven other juicy morsels for him to play with. This way, Kismet would either sit back and watch as his allies were massacred, or the god would be forced to act instead of running like a goddamn cowar–
Sense Mana alerted Rob to magic gathering behind.
Pivoting, he leapt into the air. Rob superimposed himself in front of Kismet, bodyblocking the rainstorm of destructive mana that was about to be unleashed upon Riardin's Rangers.
Due to his swift response, the attack was released early. A simple Purge Divinity shield prevented him from incurring any damage. Rob still felt no sense of triumph as the mana dissipated around him. He just wasn't fast enough to kill the lesser gods and protect his Party at the same time – or at least not fast enough that he should gamble their lives on it.
Kismet disappearing a moment later didn't help matters either.
{Three.}
Frontal assaults weren't guaranteed to succeed, and targeting the other gods was a no-go. Could he take Kismet by surprise? Increase his Dexterity?
Rob contemplated mining Never Forget Your Rage for more stats, but swiftly vetoed the idea. His body was already struggling to hold itself together. Putting additional strain on a shaky foundation seemed...unwise.
Plus – at the risk of eating crow in the near future – he didn't actually think it was possible to feel angrier at the gods than he was right now. Seriously, what was left?
He hated them for sending him to a fantasy deathworld. He hated them for tormenting his friends and family. He hated them for being partially responsible for the Blight. He hated them for what they'd done to Elatra and Earth. He hated them for all the lives they'd stolen. He hated them for being the living embodiments of indifference and cruelty. He hated that they fostered good PR among the people they oppressed. He hated how monsters of such craven hypocrisy were also immeasurably powerful. He hated the sensation of divine mana crawling on his skin. He hated the unsettling sound of their voices. He hated their bizarre formless appearances. He hated them for being pompous pricks. He hated whenever they tried to relate to him. He hated whenever they didn't.
Most of all, he hated that they were still alive.
Even if he found out that they'd personally antagonized him since birth or some petty nonsense like that, it wouldn't measure up to the litany of transgressions they'd committed thus far. The blazing inferno within his soul could burn no hotter. Should burn no hotter. For his sanity's sake, if nothing else.
Kismet teleported. It wasn't in response to anything. He'd merely anticipated some sort of action – and was then baffled afterwards when he noticed the rampaging BERSERKER standing quietly in deep thought.
{Four.}
Rob advanced. While he didn't have a plan yet, he'd also learned that if he gave Kismet the slightest amount of breathing room, bad things tended to happen.
Can any of my Skills give me an edge? Unfortunately, he didn't think so. As usual, his lack of ranged options was biting him in the ass when it mattered most. Almost everything he could use required getting in close – which was the whole freaking problem – and none would be more effective than Purge Divinity, regardless.
Maybe I could set up a Waymark point, then catch Kismet's teleport with one of mine...no, that won't work either. The odds of him popping in next to a random Waymark point are slim. Could fill the battlefield with lots of Marks, but even then I have to consider the Skill's activation time. With my current Dexterity, it'd honestly be faster just to run at him.
The vast majority of his abilities simply weren't up to par in a clash with divinity. Limit Break, Purge Divinity, and Never Forget Your Rage had been specifically designed by the Skills to facilitate deicide. Something like Power Slash couldn't possibly compare to jailbroken stats and a touch of death.
As an act of defiance against his own logic, he cast Enmity, the only ability that could feasibly hit Kismet at range. The god casually shrugged off its effect before promptly escaping.
{Five.}
Like a frustrated animal, Rob snarled and gave chase. Just need to keep trying. Kismet isn't perfect.
{Six.}
Sooner or later, he's going to mess up.
{Seven.}
He's going to mess up.
{Eight.}
HE HAS TO MESS UP.
Suddenly, Kismet transformed his right hand into a blade of mana. With one harsh motion, he sliced open his own left arm.
By now, Rob had conditioned himself to never stop moving forward, even if something shocked him – which this sight very much did. His mouth dropped open, and Leveling High paused in the middle of eating its metaphorical popcorn. They still kept advancing without an iota of hesitation.
And ran straight into the mana cloud leaking out from Kismet's wound.
Rob blinked, opening his eyes to a wonderful day. The twisting plains looked dazzlingly beautiful, with fauna and plantlife lit by rays of effervescent light from the twin stars shining above. People cheerfully went about their day, happily shaking their trunks in shows of greeting, or rattling their scales to initiate merry games.
All was at peace.
Until – in unison – everyone froze. The tumult of life went quiet in an instant, replaced with pensive silence.
As if they'd been struck by the creeping, pervasive sensation of being watched.
A sound rang out. Half of them immediately fell over dead, fluids gushing from their ruined bodies.
The survivors could only lay there, crippled and in pain, as more people slowly rose into the air. Invisible fingers seemed to pluck them from the ground – and then began ripping off their limbs, one at a time, like a child dissecting butterflies–
Rob dragged himself back to the present.
It had taken much less time than before to recognize what was happening. Now that he knew what to expect, experiencing the remnant souls' lives wasn't so different from the dreamlike quality of an Attunement vision. Although...realizing that he'd witnessed the end of a world preceding Elatra did cause his thoughts to hitch for a single moment.
Which was just enough for Kismet to forge a spear of mana, then send it plunging through Rob's eye, skull, and brain. Its tip was forged to shred anything it touched, no matter how durable or Resistant.
The god whooped with glee – only to wince as the HUMAN's sole reaction was a long, drawn-out sigh. With an air of exasperation, he reached up and yanked the divine spear free with a nauseating splorch.
His eye had been reduced to a seeping red mess. He closed its eyelid. When he opened it again, the orb within had already Regenerated, now sporting an unamused glare.
It was something of a unique moment. Mid-battle events didn't typically leave both combatants feeling disheartened. The all-powerful god was losing faith that he could ever hope to stop Rob's onslaught...
And the BERSERKER didn't know if he could justify continuing on like this. His body still felt like it was pulling itself apart; if anything, the sensation was growing more pronounced as their battle progressed. While Kismet would make a fatal mistake eventually, Rob couldn't guarantee that he would last long enough to capitalize on it.
Unless he followed Leveling High's advice and–
With a howl that shook the divine realms, Rob launched his stolen spear at Kismet. His aim was true, yet it sailed through empty air, the god's afterimage tauntingly fading away.
{Nine.}
Final chance.
​
--
​
Link to Part 2

This woman I know Might grow a halo
This woman's strength is as gentle as divine grace. Delicate yet resilient it grows. It eminates and resonates from her spirit and warms this space. Her mind is powerful, her voice bright. Her rage like a sneeze outright, causing my heart to freeze on sight. Her laugh a breeze that puts me at peace with ease. Just one look can and does bring me to my knees. Her eyes a soft glow. Unmistakable light Her faith deeply overflows. Unfuckwithable might. Her manner is polite her grip upright is like her will is tight Her whip is her tongue and in a fight one slip up and it's a beat down all night A hip with one hand delight she trips all demons apart insight No lip just a prayer that bites from a snip of her spirits flight Like a icebergs tip She amens the last rite and rip. Nothing that feeds off of fright just a light inside no one can nip.
This woman's courage bubbles from a celestial sea It's liquidity and intensity clearly shows. A beacon with such tender propensity the gravity of her kindness black holes.
This woman's spirit has an overwhelmingly nurturing nature. She the reason the devil hates her uncontrollably enduring structure.
This woman's divinity has purity thats irresistibly the opposite of evil an unforgettably flourishing rapture.
This woman's beauty has a hard expression it leaves you with the unmistakable impression that she's gotten used to licking wounds and hounds demons for the sake of every ignorant person clueless and oblivious like me from an Incursion of perversion while I'm head of heels in hells diversion.
This woman I know Might wave tomorrow

https://imgur.com/a/faYPYt2
Trying to downsize my collection:

• Modular aluminum AFS 9.5" enclosure
• Sega 2P Layout panel with 24mm action buttons, acryllic, and art
• SANWA JLX-TP-8YT Joystick, with red 2lb and stock spring. Clear smoke bullet and balltop.
• Qanba Gravity KS buttons
• Crown 202 Option buttons
• Brook PS4 Fighting Board Plus (PS5 fighting game compatible if you buy a UFB-UP5, not included)
• Full non-slip padding on the bottom
• USB cable

$140 shipped CONUS

2024-191 / MLZ MAP: 75.64 / Zedd MAP: 32.00 / Score Gap: 43.64
Wikipedia / IMDb / Official Trailer / Our Collection
IMDb Summary: The Brothers Grimm arrive at the home of a wealthy Grande Dame who speaks of the many legends surrounding the fable of the cinder girl before telling the "true" story of her ancestor.
Starring stars Drew Barrymore, Anjelica Huston, Dougray Scott, Jeanne Moreau, Megan Dodds, Melanie Lynskey, Patrick Godfrey, Lee Ingleby, Richard O'Brien, Timothy West, and Judy Parfitt.
This title was one of the films picked up on the pawn shop run and the disc was not playable. I was a little disappointed as I had wanted to watch it and Zedd being the sweetie that he is suggested that we pick it up. I grabbed it from the Disney Movie Club super cheap. I needed a bit of a pick up last night and Zedd popped this in for me.
Having never seen it, but being a lifelong fan of Drew Barrymore (stupid recent decisions notwithstanding) I was eager to see her as a version of Cinderella. Anjelica Houston being our wicked stepmother also sounded so fun. No idea who Dougray Scott was…
The story actually starts out good, with The Brothers Grimm being re-educated by an older noble lady, one who happens to have a set of glass slippers. But, from there, it slips.
Zedd is a huge fan of the MAP’ping right after watching plan and I do it, so we can discuss the film and its ups and downs after scoring. But I admit, sometimes I wish I had waited. The score is the score, though.
What I will tell you though, is that my score will be lower next time. Not as low as Zedd’s, I don’t think. But lower.
Why? Honestly, because of his opinions making me look at it through different eyes. When I read this out loud to him, he said “Oh I get that too sometimes.” He was right, the accents were awful! Why does Danielle have a half British accent anyway? They are in France! In fact, most of the accents were bad, or did not fit.
It also fell rather flat. I was not in love with a 10+ year older Dougray Scott as the Prince. Drew did ok at showing her feelings, but I saw that strongest at the end.
I have a complaint against myself, my friends, in that I did not realize that the gross old Monsieur Pierre Le Pieu was Richard O’Brien. I love him!
Also, the scene when the Prince is about to marry the Spanish Princess, her crying, if I could never hear that again, it would be way, way, way, too soon!
I give Drew all my love here, and as you can see, my score was right-on for a standard “enjoyable” movie. But when I compare it to Ella Enchanted, there is just no comparison.
2024-192 / MLZ MAP: 86.52 / Zedd MAP: 53.35 / Score Gap: 33.17
Wikipedia?wprov=sfti1) / IMDb / Official Trailer / Our Collection
IMDb Summary: Ella is under a spell to be constantly obedient, a fact she must hide from her new stepfamily in order to protect the prince of the land, her friend for whom she's falling.
Starring Anne Hathaway, Hugh Dancy, Cary Elwes, Steve Coogan, Eric Idle, Aidan McArdle, Jimi Mistry, Minnie Driver, Vivica A. Fox, Heidi Klum, and Parminder Nagra.
We happened upon this film when Little Miss Zedd was a kiddo and it was watched often. ((In the background “Way too often”)). I would say that Zedd may just have had more than his share of Ella. ((In the background, “Way, way, more than my share.”). He does appreciate the music, even though they are covers, they are still good songs.
I really, really, like this film, and found the twist of Ella’s “gift” to be a fresh take on an old story. Of course, Miss Hathaway is just as pretty as all get-out. Minnie Driver has been on my good list since forever herself. I also very much love Parminder Nagra, and have from the first time I saw her act. And then yeah, the music! It’s a musical!
Ella’s journey to return that “gift” that did not fit certainly rings true for everyone. She is just trying to find her way along. She has struggles, friends that help her along, and it has a happy ending.
This, my friends, is a proper fairy tale. All the better to Movie On with, my pretties!

You sat down in a car, tears flowing down your puffy cheeks. You got farther— and farther from what used to be your home. Your home, that now is a crime scene.
—
You woke up, when did you fall asleep? You sigh, before looking out the dirt covered window and taking in the new environment. You were still on the road, but you could make out a rather large building in the distance— it seemed to be at least 3 stories?
You got closer and closer to the unfamiliar building, and just for a moment, you forgot about what happened. You forgot about what had happened to your parents. You forgot about what you saw. About what you heard.
Tears began to form again— but you quickly shook your head and wiped the tears away. It’s time to start anew. You’ll be okay.
—
Finally, you were there. You were at that strange building— that you never knew existed. It was by your old school. You were ushered out of the car by the driver, and as soon as you collected your things and got out, the car sped off— leaving you alone, outside in an unfamiliar place.
You began to make your way towards the building, almost slipping on the rather muddy path countless times. Finally, you reached the entrance and knocked on the door.
.
.
.
There was no answer, so you knock again. You wait, but once again, there was no answer. You just stand there, until suddenly— you can hear footsteps coming from inside the house.
Finally, the door opened. You looked up to see who opened the door, and you see a seemingly elderly woman wearing a beautiful white gown, with a pearl necklace around her neck.
” Oh! We’ve been expecting you, deary! Come in, come in! “
She invited you into the house, and as you walked in— you immediately smelt what seems to be freshly baked cookies, yum! You look around, before setting your bag down on the dusty, wooden floor.
” Welcome to Sunny Sorrows, hun! “
The kind lady smiled at you, and finally— you notice other children running around the house. This is where you’ll be staying, you guess. It didn’t seem THAT bad.
The lady walked off, seemingly to go grab something? So, you just stood there as other kids of all ages played around you, although they were all quiet and seemed to all have various scars. Strange.
Whenever she came back, she handed you a paper that was damaged fairly bad, although you could still read what was on it.
” I’ll have Junie take you to your room, if you need me i’ll be down here! “
—
You were now sitting on a rather comfortable bed, holding a teddy bear you were given by your now dead mother. Before you began to cry again— you quickly decided to distracted yourself by grabbing that paper you were given earlier.
—
Welcome to Sunny Sorrows Orphanage! There are a .. few rules if you wanna make it out of here alive! But don’t worry, I believe in you.
1. Avoid going into the basement, nothing will get you— it’s just .. it’s dark down there and the door has a habit of locking whilst people are down there. Last time someone got locked in, we found them a little too late..
2. Don’t enter the nursery alone, especially at night. If you absolutely for some reason need to— prepare for a fun night. You won’t be leaving it anytime soon.
3. Don’t enter the bathroom past midnight, some of our guests .. aren’t very fond of children.
3a. If you ABSOLUTELY need to use the bathroom, wake up one of the caretakers.
4. As you are going up the staircase, please don’t pay attention to the fact that the stairs seem to be getting longer— and longer with each step you take. Trust me, they aren’t. You’ll be at the top soon.
5. During lunchtime or dinner, if your food begins to melt, please IMMEDIATELY throw away your plate and grab another.
6. The guests don’t seem to like noise, please try your best to be quiet, unless you don’t like your vocal cords!
7. Please behave, troublemakers get punished. You don’t wanna know what happened to poor Liam, rest in * *pieces.**
8. I understand you may want to pet the cat in the yard, but please don’t. That is not a cat, in fact— we don’t know WHAT it is.
9. You may hear scratches at your door, and people pleading for you to let them in after midnight. Please don’t open the door. Please. I don’t want to have to clean up what they will make of you.
10. There is a door at the end of the hall, it should ALWAYS be closed and locked.
10a. If you notice it is unlocked, please let one of the caretakers know. It may have gotten out.
10b. If it is wide open, RUN DOWNSTAIRS. Push the button behind the staircase and open the door. Try to get anyone you can into the room and shut it immediately. Say goodbye to anyone that didn’t make it in, you’ll have to help clean them up later.
11. Please make sure to wash your hands! Nobody wants your germs.
That is all, I hope you stay safe.
Sincerely,
Maverick

[ First / Previous ]
Memory Transcription Subject: Hileen, Krakotl Fugitive Recovery Agent
Date [standardized human time]: November 28th, 2136
It'd been a while since I sat in Marlig's office for a talk face-to-face. Given the agency's secluded location at the edge of the downtown region, it was a chore to drop by when it wasn't for business, but I'd deemed the matter at hand to be worth my time.
I passed by Nampi at her desk on my way to the door and she gave me a coy glare as I carried on. Trying to ignore her risible ear waggle, I turned the corner to the door with my boss’s name painted on the glass panel where I could hear the frantic crumpling of paper.
Quietly, I entered Marlig's office without prompt as I knew he hated to be spooked by knocking. My mentor was surprisingly spry for a bird at his age, sorting through papers with one wing and an eye while using his talons with the other to set away the papers he had splayed out.
“Hileen!” he chirped. “Glad you could make it in today. I was just finishing up my paperwork. Take a seat.”
It was always nice to hear him drop the professional motif for a more grandfatherly attitude when speaking in person. I did as he suggested and took a seat while he grumbled to himself over the sorting. My eye caught a few of the old contracts he was rifling through and saw that some dated back to his days as an agent.
Eventually, he left some sitting out as he sequestered the rest back into their files, sorted by a dichotomy that only he and Nampi could comprehend fully. He motioned with a wing for me to peruse and I turned the first one to face me to find it was my first contract, signed by me in a sloppy fashion. “This takes me back a couple of years.”
“Slick bastard thought he could get away on a forklift but you showed him! Certainly more exciting than my first day!”
“Mm-hmm. And it was when I nearly got impaled that you had the idea to commission all of us utility vests.”
He chuckled, “I really should’ve done so sooner. Cuts and scratches were already a risk, but a forklift was a new one!”
I flipped through the pages of each report, finding that Marlig's notes were filled with praises of my work. There were highs and lows, but I was flattered to find that the grizzled krakotl held my performance in such high regard.
“Flawless interception!” read one footnote about me catching a runner. “Couldn't have done it better myself!”
Marlig waited patiently as I browsed quickly through each page, realizing more and more how the notes also marked improvements in my work. How I found it easier to talk down a rowdy client, or apprehend them in the case that they were beyond helping on my part. Flowery language plastered most pages with him fawning over my work as a doting father would to his prodigal child.
The trend took a sharp turn as the notes became fewer and more critical the closer the dates reached to the present. I brushed the others aside with a wing to peruse the final paper. “And this…”
“Is Tac. Your latest contract. The most recent in a line of declining performance since the interview. This has become a pattern, Hileen, and its consequences are beginning to reach beyond yourself. Paji and Vesek resigned recently for personal reasons, which leaves us even less hands on deck than before. That's four people to cover the entire municipal region, and maybe even beyond, should needs arise. Three, if we include this little probation I have you on.”
“What was I supposed to do? Marlig, these ‘jobs’ you've got us working on overstep the contracts we were signed on with. Our job is to make sure people obey their court-mandated duties, not drag them off to the facilities ourselves!”
“... So the trip we took to the facilities did bother you.”
A sigh clicked in my throat as he reminded me. “Is that what happens to the people we take in, Marlig? Is that what would've happened to your wife?”
His feathers ruffled.
“That's what happens to those who are too dangerous to the general public to be left roaming free. Not everyone we deal with winds up there, but everyone can be subject to it. Miskela sued for her exoneration and proved in court that she was not diseased. I brought you there to show you how it helps the people, but I see now that it was a mistake. I understand why you were so perturbed, really, but it's how things have been for centuries. It's how we've protected ourselves from the dangers out there.”
“You were willing to let Barsul be interned there, too.”
Marlig flinched and sighed as he swept the papers towards himself once I'd signaled I was done. He turned one eye to me while he sorted them.
“There's no room for favoritism, girl. I negotiated for him to be allowed to walk free, and look where that got me. That boy - your neighbor - suffered the consequences of my nepotism. So too would the girl, had nobody intervened.”
“Like Richard.”
“The human, yes. Or you. Or the police. Where does this sudden obsession with humans come from, anyway? I get notifications of you talking about the acceptance of them all the time on forums.”
“Does it even need explaining?”
“Well, I guess not, no, but it's certainly an about-face from the way you used to talk about them with me beforehand.”
“People can change, for better or worse. Which one I fall under remains to be seen.”
Marlig stroked at the plumage on his neck as he finished his sorting. “I hope it's the former, for your sake. Was there any reason you came to talk, or were you just checking that I hadn't gone senile?”
“Well, I was hoping to borrow your secretary for the evening.”
He perked up while his eyes narrowed and he laced his fingers together with curiosity. “You… want to spend an evening with Nampi?”
“It's not what you're insinuating, but yes.”
“I was insinuating nothing,” he warbled coyly. “Go ahead and take her, and make sure to split the bill at dinner.”
“Pain-in-the-ass geezer. I'll keep in touch if your friend causes any more trouble.”
“Keep in touch regardless. Miskela and I get lonely in our old age,” he called back. “Take care.”
I stepped out into the hallway and turned toward the desk where I could hear the secretary's claws tapping furtively at her keyboard. Nampi sat silently with her ears and tail in a relaxed position that implied a bored demeanor. There was barely any response as I stood before her, waiting politely for her acknowledgment that never came.
Hesitantly, I cleared my throat.
An ear raised in acknowledgement, but her focus remained on the screen of her computer. “Mhm?”
“Do you…?”
Her ear rotated toward me, though she still maintained a passive attitude as she continued to glare mindlessly at the monitor.
“Are you free this evening?”
“Well, I'm quite booked, I believe. Why do you ask?”
I was surprised at her curt, dry tone. She hadn't spoken with me like this since we first got to know one another.
“Well,” I started. “I realized something. Every time we went out, whether it was clubbing, or dinner, or even walking around the parks, you always footed the bill. And so…”
Slowly, her other ear perked up and I saw her keystrokes slow down as she listened in.
“I wanted to return the favor?”
Her lips smacked as she opened her mouth, though paused before she spoke. “How could you possibly do that?”
“With a little gesture of friendship.”
Nampi's horizontal pupil turned up toward me and her tail twitched.
I continued, “So that belt you're wearing? It's the same belt you've worn since we first met. And I know you're the pragmatic type who'd never spend a credit more than she needs to, except for all the times you do"- her ears twitched in indignance -"I wanted to see about getting you a little something… extra?”
Her paws raised from the keyboard and she leaned in, resting her snout on her palms. “Go on.”
The bubbly venlil's tail sold out her collected facade as it twitched with anticipation. She was cornered and she didn't even know it yet.
“Well, I found just the place on the other side of town where we can start. It's a place almost as rich and indulgent as yourself.”
“The Platinum Paw? I mean3”
Her ears folded back in embarrassment as she cracked. She wasn't cut out for acting anyway.
“So that's what it's called! Jeez, I couldn't for the life of me figure out what it was called. Now what do you say? We go over there and find you something nice—”
I hadn’t even finished my thought before Nampi had grabbed her bag and was out the door, giving me a playful tail flick that said come and get me.

The place I suggested was in a shopping center on the opposite side of town, though easily accessible because of its proximity to the transport rails. Nampi had insisted on grabbing something to eat beforehand and so now gleefully bit into a bundle of stalks that had been “grilled” as explained from the food truck we'd stopped at.
Her tail flicked back and forth with her usual enthusiasm as we entered the massive complex of stores. The roofless plan allowed the natural, orange sun to flood the upper levels while artificial lighting illuminated the ground level wherever the light couldn't reach.
The place was built in the last decade by the previous City Magister in a bid for popularity, though ultimately for naught as he would lose the vote following a scandal involving an iftali priestess and a carved bar of soap. I had to say that despite being sick in the head, he sure had a great sense of decor.
Nampi snacked away, joining me in admiring the scenery as we continued to the place I’d planned out for us. Aimless chatter all melded together into a single, thrumming murmur as pedestrians navigated the many levels and stores offered in the place.
A troupe of children passed by us, held in a chain of tails and arms as they were escorted by a pair of venlil who I assumed were students and teachers on a school trip. I caught a whiff of a sweet, aromatic breeze and found it to come from a perfume shop on the same level as us; naturally, venlil were not to be found inside.
We passed a fountain where a couple sat on the edge, their tails twined together as they giggled and flirted. I turned and caught Nampi watching them as well, though she awkwardly returned to sucking the remains of her meal from her claws when we made eye contact. Her ears lifted when I raised a wing to signal to the store we were going to stop at first.
“Platinum Paw, The Greatest Fashion Emporium For Everyone!”
The title alone was painfully cliche, taken to the tenth power by the brightly lit store taking up three department slots. Despite the flashy exterior, though, it was the best place to shop for belts, brooches, and bracelets alike. Customers who looked like they earned my yearly salary in a week browsed the higher end brands while I brought my friend to the section I wanted to show her.
Her ears were held up as we stood together next to a shelf chock full of fashionable bags and bandoliers of every variety.
“Pick one,” I told her.
Nampi's ears shot to a straight pose in surprise, “Any?”
“Within reason. I've got a few extra credits to blow and I know nobody better to spend it on.”
With an inviting headtilt, I let Nampi peruse the shelves at her leisure. Her lips pursed together and her tail flicked with glee as she fingered at every piece that caught her eye. I chuckled at her outburst of enthusiasm while turning to find my own items to gloss over.
A breeze from outside nipped at my beak while I considered what I’d like to purchase. The place dripped with an atmosphere of faux hospitality, from the bright blue-stained floorboards to the radio prattling off advertisements in a sickeningly sweet tone to the faint, fruity aroma of scented cleaner. It was oppressive as only a fissan-owned company could be to the senses.
What I wouldn’t pay to see how a human would fare in such an environment.
I knew they were social creatures at least, but I had no doubt that the predatory senses of a human, so honed to hunting, would get overstimulated in this center of gaudy indulgence. Knowing I was something of a predator myself made me sympathize provided that even I had to squint to keep the pale lights inside from searing my eyes. I could only imagine how the arboreal eyes of a Terran would fare. I was so lost in thought imagining how lost the Terrans would be that I could almost ignore the obnoxious giggling and metallic rattling coming from behind me.
Risking a peek at the source, into my sight came a pair of venlil, one a male carrying a pair of bags as well as a couple more strapped to his belt. The bored expression in his eyes was not one of a man who was in high spirits. The other venlil was a woman who was the source of the noise.
Her mottled gray pelt was accented by a tasteful belt design, free of almost any practical functions but not flashy or excessive in garnishment either. At least, that’s what I would say, were it not for the braid of beads that dangled on the belt, jingling with each bounce of the lively woman’s stride. It was clear that such a gaudy accessory was intended to draw attention to her, though why was a mystery. Certainly, the shiny braids seemed designed as decoration first and practical second.
She turned about and I faced back to my browsing before she could catch me staring. Nampi was nowhere in sight, though I figured she was somewhere behind the shelf, sifting through every accessory on the section I'd suggested.
Clink.
Something pelted to my immediate right. I tilted my head to spot a tree nut shell clattering to the floor. Without being able to guess where it came from, I had to wonder what could've launched it over this way. Even with my keen eyesight, nobody in the crowd seemed to be a suspect.
Clink.
Another shell pelted my vicinity, ricocheting off of the floor and hitting the shelf I was standing next to. I ruffled my feathers in frustration - clearly, someone was trying to get my attention, though I couldn't make out who it was. Out of the corner of my vision, the woman from before eyed me curiously as I looked about, though I wasn't interested in engaging with her.
Thwack.
One more shell came flying and, unfortunately, the aim on this one was true, nailing me on the beak. Irritated, I stormed out of the store to find the source of the instigator. I scanned over the bodies to find anyone who could've been responsible for this indignity, eventually concluding that it came from the dining area across the walkway.
Whoever was responsible was in for an earful and I was already structuring which of the offender's family members would be acceptable as fodder for stray words. As I approached, I found the tables were mostly empty save for one, which made my heart begin to drop as I met eyes with the only occupant. Suddenly, I was much less inclined to hurl insults.
“Oh, hi there!” Qitel called out in a sickly sweet tone. “Come, take a seat! We have much to discuss!”
The Exterminator clutched a bag of tree nuts in his claws, a pile of discarded shells already gathered on the table next to him. He grabbed another as I approached, effortlessly prying the shell in half between two claws and tossed the contents into his mouth. “Good protein, these,” he commented as I sat down.
“Must be for that good arm you've got there,” I mumbled. I caught sight of a couple of bags beneath his chair, seemingly from one of the tech stores contained within the center.
“Bah, it's guesswork. So how are you? I haven't heard from you since we worked together!”
“I was just spending time with a friend, shopping and enjoying my time off.”
“Your time off? Oh, am I interrupting something?”
His snide tone irked me, though now wasn’t the time for interjections. “You are, Qitel,” I replied with no shortage of vitriol in my tone. “But I see no harm in chatting for a bit.”
“Good, because I have some merchandise”- he reached into his belt pocket and deposited a couple of items onto the table -“and you’re just the person to look into it, human sympathizer.”
I drew a terse breath in shock, but my worries were quelled when I considered that if Qitel had the power to do anything about it, he would’ve done so instead of approaching me so discreetly. A glance down at the item on the table showed that he was presenting what looked to be a tracker as well as a personal drive. “Found in the garbage,” he told me.
“The guild resorts to dumpster diving when they already have such a bloated budget now?”
“No, featherbrain, I have decided to keep this for myself. These items were found together, sealed in a plastic pouch, and placed in a garbage bin. The city has bans against electronics being placed into public bins, and so I was curious why this wound up in there. Managed to get my coworker, a techie, to crack it open and…”
Qitel reached into his belt again, glowering at me with the same condescending gaze he’d given me when I first saw his face. He seemed to revel in digging for the item as slowly as possible to waste my time. Finally, he found whatever he was looking for and revealed it as a printed piece of paper, folded into eighths. The snobby yotul threw the unfurled paper on the table and rolled it toward me.
I craned my neck to look at the parchment, though I was immediately perplexed by the text on it; it appeared to be some sort of form, going by the boxes with words on the inside, followed by blank lines. “Found on the drive, here,” Qitel told me, jabbing a claw to the storage. “Translator shows it as Terran writing.”
Drawing my holopad from my satchel, I held it over the paper with the translator to get an understanding. Surely enough, the language on it came up positive as a variant of Terran writing and I was affirmed in it being a form of some sort based on the wording of the text. The boxes seemed like an odd sort of job application, asking for the typical name, contacts, and prior work experiences, but quickly took a strange turn as it began asking for where their home on Earth was prior to arrival, what family they had on Venlil Prime if any, and where they worked, implying that they were seeking individuals who were already employed.
I knew little about human employment methods, but I didn’t imagine that sourcing individuals from other jobs was the most efficient way to gain a workforce. Terran service industries already dotted the planet while many humans also found work in local environments. So what was the angle that the creator of this application was going for?
Most concerningly was that the paper had no insignia, identifying marks, or noted address to return the form to. “And where did you find it again?”
“In the garbage, alongside this intact tracker that was activated at the time of recovery. Y’know, when I was dumpster diving. Text on the document showed it was addressed to one ‘Choctaw Nexus’.”
“A pseudonym of some sort?”
“Clearly. Short sorting through the archives shows the first name traces back to the group out east - perhaps you've heard about them. How the name and the items we have here are connected is beyond my understanding, but-”
“Well, this has been an absolutely riveting discussion about your collection of trash, Qitel,” I told him as I stood up to leave. “But this really sounds like an issue to be resolved by your fellow guildsmen.”
The sound of another shell splitting rang out as I turned away.
“I'm not through talking with you, predator.”
The sting as a piece nailed me in the back of the head prompted me to whirl back around, sticking my beak in the insolent yotul's snout. “Perhaps you've forgotten, little man,” I cooed in an equally bittersweet tone to the one he gave me before. “The krakotl never had a problem with settling issues the old-fashioned way before the interview. Try me and find out why I'm in the line of work I am.”
“Oh, we wouldn't want that in such a"- he waved his paw to a group of passersby who had stopped to gawk at my display -”public forum. Please, contain yourself.”
I had to force the feathers on my back to settle and I raised my head away from him. “What else is it you wanted, then?”
“Well, I'd appreciate if you took this merchandise off my paws,” he told me as he brushed the electronics and printout toward me.
“Why would I do that?”
“Because you're closer to the humans than I'd ever care to be, and may be able to find out who this Choctaw Nexus is. Something about the package just feels… off. And I know when to trust my feelings. Besides, we both know that you know where Tac is, don't we?”
“I don't-”
“We have videographic evidence that you conspired with a human - of the aforementioned squatters, no less - and let the kid escape. You're not as sneaky as you think, and if we find this ‘Choctaw Nexus’ turns out to be a bad actor that can be traced back to them - and by extension, you - well, there’d be no talking down my boss from having you dealt with. By helping me find out who this is, you may yet be able to clear your name of any wrongdoing.”
I clenched my beak tightly to maintain a straight face. Qitel stood up with a flourish and discarded the bag he was carrying in a bin.
“See, the krakotl were never special for using threats and bullying to get results. It's because you were good at killing predators,” he jeered. “Now, if you don't mind, this primitive has appointments to attend to… old lady who got trampled courtesy of the humans and all. You stay out of trouble, Hileen, and stay in touch.”
The self-assured marsupial melded into the crowd in a matter of seconds, leaving me with a table containing dumpster trophies and a pile of shells. Reluctantly, I swept the shells into my wing and dumped them into the bin before gathering the other two items he'd left me and stuffing them into my bag. I'd been gone from Nampi long enough and she would notice my absence before long.
Crossing the walkway again, I could spot from where I stood that Nampi was indeed still in the Platinum Paw. I approached, and soon I found that while she didn't seem to have noticed me stepping away, she was definitely in a soured mood based on the sagging of her ears and tail. With my talons clacking on the floorboards, I hustled to her side and her mood chippered up ever so slightly as she heard me approach.
I chimed in, “Find anything?”
“Everything. I want everything, Red, and I can't decide on what I want. They all just look so great!”
From behind, a voice called out, “Nampi!”
We both jumped at the exclamation and turned about to spot the venlil lady I'd seen before spring from behind the shelf. The man poked his head from behind the shelf too, though less enthusiastically and with yet another bag in his clutches. My friend's eyes widened in surprise with her tail and ears perking up in kind. With a light in her eyes, she exclaimed, “Nalek!”
The two embraced with shrill squeals and laughter as Nalek's accompaniment and I traded awkward glances.
“It's been too long!”
“You never stayed in contact!”
The women exchanged giddy greetings and the pompous stranger turned to me, leering over me as though she was sizing me up.
“Who's your friend here?”
“Oh she's actually my-...”
Nampi paused for a moment, looking back to me.
“Yeah, she's a friend.”
“A friend,” Nalek repeated while her eyes flicked between Nampi and I. “Right.”
Somehow, I get the impression that that was judgemental.
“I'm Hileen, by the way,” I chirped, “if names are to be exchanged.”
“Hileen, that's a lovely name! And such plumage to match, it's a wonder you aren't swarmed by suitors!”
Internally, I groaned at the notion. The idea of being approached by someone to state their interest in me made me queasy, to say the least. Thankfully, I never had that issue growing up as most of the other drakes in school were too busy chasing girls who didn't have a lousy pigmentation mutation such as myself.
“I'm flattered,” I told Nalek before turning to the man whose name had yet to be introduced. “May we get your name?”
“Sask.”
His response was succinct and tonally flat, though there was a brief silence as I expected him to elaborate. Nalek's beads jingled as she lashed him on the calf with her tail.
“I'm Sask, Nalek's fiancée,” he added, throwing her a look to see if she was satisfied.
Nampi gasped with her paws over her snout. “Fiancée! Nalek, you're getting married and you never even told me!”
“Well, I felt a little guilty since it technically broke our pact we made when we were pups. You remember that?”
“Of course! Why wouldn’t I? ‘Let she who bonds through betrothal first be cast out unto the world for all to admonish her!’”
Sask and I both gave inquisitive expressions. “You two spoke like that as pups?” Sask asked.
“Well, I'm paraphrasing,” Nampi admitted with a playful ear waggle. “But you get the gist.”
“Indeed, they do, sweet Nampi. Now, may I ask what you're doing bringing your avian friend here into this store on this fine claw?”
“Oh, no no, she's the one treating me! Isn't that right, Red?”
I saw her tail twitch and was sure it took restraint not to tickle my neck with it as we stood before her old friend.
“She's been a good friend,” I explained. “So I wanted to reverse the roles for once and treat her to something myself.”
Nampi skipped over to me and wrapped her arm around me, glancing back to her old friend. “See? We'd all be so lucky to have a… friend like her.”
“So I've witnessed. But perhaps you're a bit stuck, as I've seen you prancing up and down these aisles for a while, no? Maybe you don't know what you want?”
“Nalek, you know I've never been good about making my mind up.”
“Some things never change, you ditz. Tell you what: you and Sask go find us a seat and we can catch up all we'd like when we're not taking up aisle space, yes? So shoo! I'll help Hileen here pick one out for you!”
With a bored grunt, Sask made off with the goods he had strapped to himself, followed by Nampi who gave me one more playful tail flick before dashing off into the crowd. I looked back to the mottled snout of Nalek who watched her friend wander off with a wistful glance.
“She was my first, you know.”
“Your what now.”
“Love. Way back when we were growing from pups into young adults back in private education, we explored much together. We saw each other through a lot, including the less savory parts of finding a mate. When Nampi realized it wasn't the boys she was into, she turned to me, and I offered my hand as her stalwart companion… to a point.”
“You weren't interested in her the same way?”
“I'd grown up seeing her as a sister of sorts, so ultimately, when we split it off, we stayed close as friends and she never seemed to be bothered by it. She struggled to find others in school who had the same interests as herself, but she never fussed about it.”
Nalek's claws browsed over a set of pouched bandoliers made with intricate embroidering. “Have you two… spent the night together? Alone?”
Spiritually, I reeled from the inquiry. The whiplash from that question was equitable to being smacked by a human. “Wha- why? How's that pertinent to the subject at hand?”
“That sounds like a ‘yes’ to me,” she purred with a smug glance my way.
I didn't need to begin to list the different ways such a question was violating to our privacy, and yet this woman was treating it like a game.
“Not really your concern, ma'am.”
Nalek chuckled as she picked out one of the bandoliers and inspected it with her claws. “I'd like to think that she and I still have that old connection, despite everything. And to that end, I know that she's no slag and doesn't trust easy. To see her be so vulnerable around you and to talk so highly of someone who's clearly below her income level as a predator…”
She stretched the bandolier out to appreciate the design in its entirety.
“Well, that's something special. Here"- she foisted the accessory into my wings as I stood gobsmacked -"this just screams her name.”
“This is, like, double my budget.”
“Love don't come cheap, darling. You wanna see good things happen, sometimes you've gotta step out of your comfort zone and grasp for it!”
“I'm being lectured by a rich woman on finances.”
“It's a philosophy that goes beyond money, ‘Red.’ The humans have a saying, in their horrendously predatory nomenclature, that contains a kernel of truth: ‘you miss every shot you don't take’.”
Yep, that's definitely a human phrase.
Nalek's steely braid rattled with every flick of the tail as we proceeded through the checkout.
“You want things to change between you and her?” she continued. “Don't just wait for it to happen.”
She let the conversation rest there as we finished the purchase, possibly to let me recuperate mentally from the damage done to my account. Outside, we found our respective partners sitting at a table with Sask looking up in boredom as Nampi chatted away, though she immediately shut up and turned to me with excited flicks of her tail as she saw what I was carrying.
I held it toward her and she happily shot to her feet, effortlessly removing the tags with her claws and clipping it to her belt. Nalek clapped and waggled her tail as the giddy lady did a whirl about to let us admire the accessory. While I'd have preferred one with pockets to give it a more practical use, I decided to let Nalek have the victory as our mutual friend clearly enjoyed it.
The rest of the paw was a blur as the two friends chatted without end until Sask eventually reminded his betrothed that they had a schedule to attend to. Though Nalek offered to call us a taxi home as a gesture of kindness, I saw through her ruse to determine that she was trying to pull a fast one on me - the clever ear flick she gave as we boarded the automated vehicle sold it for me.
We sat in the seats as the vehicle took the express ride home.
Nampi cleared her throat before she spoke, “Thank you for taking some time to spend with me, I know you've had a lot less free time as of late.”
“It's a prison of my own design, if I must be honest. A feedback loop of working a job that doesn't guarantee a paycheck to pay for rent that keeps going up, and thus needing to work more.”
The venlil giggled and chided me, “You really should've stayed in university.”
“There's a lotta 'should haves’ that've led me to this point. No use wondering what could have been.”
“There's always a use for wondering what could have been, Hileen.”
She wrapped an arm around my shoulder.
“Every decision I make, I always wonder what I could've done differently that it'd have turned out better,” she explained as she waved her free paw to the sky. “It's how you grow as a person, Red.”
Her silky pelt felt heavenly in contrast to the chilly air from outside, making it hard to let her words sink in.
“You rich types seem chock full of philosophy. I wonder if I'll become a brooding orator when I get some cash to my name.”
The cab filled with laughter as we veered around the final corner to my neighborhood, as it was the closest stop. The door popped open accompanied by a chime from the drone, signaling for me to depart.
But before my talons could even hit the pavement, I felt Nampi's scrawny arms wrap around my waist and she let out a pitiful mewl again.
“You don't need to get off here,” she told me with a pouty expression. “We can spend the rest of the paw at my place.”
“I'd love it, but I need to water my plants and get the month's bills sorted before they're due. Again.”
One claw at a time, I plucked her paws from around my waist and the childish venlil conceded, giving me another ear waggle as I departed. “I'll see you tomorrow?” I asked her.
“If you still have eyes by then, then you can bet your ass!”
“I still don't gamble.”
“You'll come around to it eventually.”
I shut the door to the taxi and watched as it carted away the one venlil who I ever truly felt on the same wavelength as. Fiddling with the lock felt like more of a chore than usual at this time as I felt a little voice tugging at the back of my head.
“You miss every shot you don't take.”
The lock felt jammed as I began to jiggle it more vigorously with the electric key. Either the RFID or NFC readers were messed up, as the lock refused to accept my key. I looked up and down the street, though Nampi was now long gone for me to rescind my earlier rejection.
“Every decision I make, I wonder what I could've done differently.”
The door rattled as I grew more and more infuriated with the lock. Qitel's smug expression as he threatened me so boldly in public played back in my head, and I wondered what would've happened had I decided to go through with insulting his mother. Better yet, I wondered what could've been had I not backed down in the face of his unflinching confidence.
Bzzt. The lock rejected my key again.
“Raagh! You fucking useless hunk of junk!”
I squawked in anger and kicked against the door, careless of the consequences of having Markol back down here to admonish another of his tenants for causing a ruckus. The walls were surprisingly sturdy for how ineffective the venlil architecture looked on the surface and I reeled back in pain as my leg throbbed.
Click.
I looked to my left to see that it wasn't my door that came open, but that of the twins. The door cracked open ever so slightly, no doubt nudged by the force of my tirade and I sighed. Nobody was expected to be home at this time, with Vili being away and Luka leaving early to get a head start.
Luka had been given a stern talking-to by the landlord for allowing one of those cats into his apartment through neglect, and I was disappointed that he seemed to have not learned his lesson this time. In fact, it seemed he hadn't even thought to lock the door this time.
I took it upon myself to shut the door for him before turning back to my own apartment door. Grasping the key with one talon, I turned it ever so gently, though the lock still refused to give in.
With a bit more force, the torsion applied to the key felt as though it should've snapped it by now. Markol sure didn't waste any expense for the security for this place, doubtlessly as a result of his history in electronic security, but I wished now that he had provided a way in that didn't rely on privately sourced locks.
Considering my options as I stood trapped outside, I realized that I had never gotten around to paying for a new lock for Tadi. I'd considered contacting her to inform her that Tac had made it out of town safely, but that'd involve also telling her that her son was now in the care of humans, as if that was a better outcome to her.
Stepping out front, I realized that there was one more option I hadn't considered: my window. I usually forgot to lock it after I was through letting air circulate and I was silently grateful to myself for this absentmindedness now more than ever. Sticking a foot on the threshold, I lifted myself in a way that'd allow me to have leverage to force the window open.
The window made me fight for every inch, but I felt a strange satisfaction as it slowly opened up into an entrance that I could squeeze my way through. I let out a sigh as my talons clicked against the cool floor and slid the window shut.
I laid my satchel on the couch and turned back to the door, ready to unleash my fury on the disobedient object. But as I reached for the lock to manually open the door, I noted that the lights on the RFID interface both flashed at once, blinking erratically. Red and green flickered without rhyme or reason, indicating that it was both active and inactive.
As pretty as the colors were, I now knew that Markol's locks were not as reliable as he had touted them about: typically, such would not occur unless the device was damaged deliberately, and yet nothing indicated that I'd had uninvited guests. One could pray that those cats didn't secretly know how to cobble together an ECM jammer, but my personal wager was on faulty equipment.
Settling in, I browsed my favorite soaps on the television. For what was intended to be a day of relaxation and show of affection for a friend, I found myself rather wound up over all the things that added up. Couples threw around flowery words and swooned over one another on screen as I felt the tension diffuse. My holopad rang and I turned it over to spot that Nampi was informing me that she'd arrived home safely.
>>> Feels empty here, all alone.
She made sure to drive the point home with a sticker of a venlil making a pouty expression.
Next time, I thought to myself, I'll get it right for you, Nampi.
[ First / Previous ]

I work in the archives at my university and we just deacessioned this book that we decided was not technically rare that was taking up space in our collections. My boss said I could keep it after we processed it. The author is Constantine George Rickards and it's called The Ruins of Mexico. The publisher info for this particular copy is listed as follows on the title page:
London, W. / H. E. Shrimpton, / 105, Regent Street. / 1910.
I cannot find a single biography on this author anywhere. All I know is the info he gave in the book's introduction about how the plates are photos he took while traveling through Mexico in 1910. He signed it along with marking his location at the time of writing said intro:
Constantine George Rickards. / Oaxaca, / September, 1910.
All I could find through googling the address was that it's now part of a shopping district in London but couldn't find anything on the publisher's name or the author's name besides the fact that this was his only known publication, and he wanted to make a second volume according to a slip of paper inside the book, which gives two publishing houses where they would supposedly be able to be obtained from in 1911, including the above. As far as I've seen online, volume 2 was never made. It doesn't exist anywhere, just people's copies of v. 1 they're trying to sell online for however much money. I searched for Constantine on ancestry and couldn't find anything either, but I'm not sure if it's because I'm just somehow incompetent with tech despite growing up with it. The slip of paper says as follows:
"The Ruins of Mexico." VOLUME II. of this work, containing a similar number of plates as Vol. 1, will be published early in 1911, and can be obtained from-- PHILIP SANDOVAL, Apartado, 21, Oaxaca, Mexico, and H.E. SHRIMPTON, 105, Regent Street, London, W.
My next courses of action will likely be looking into the Oaxacan publisher and address listed, as well as doing an ancestry search for Shrimpton, but I don't have too much hope I'll turn up anything. If anyone knows a thing or two about this and would like to help, or even if you're just interested in helping track these figures down and find out what happened to them and more about their lives, especially that of the author, any help is greatly appreciated.

https://imgur.com/a/sWHFZOr
Trying to downsize my collection:

• Modular aluminum AFS 14" enclosure
• Stickless+ Layout panel, acryllic, and art
• Qanba Gravity KS buttons
• Metallic Crown 202 Option buttons (will include 3 extra)
• Brook P5 Plus Fighting Board (PS5 fighting game compatible)
• Lockout switches
• Non-slip padding on the bottom
• USB cable

$220 shipped CONUS

Hello,
Short story my K3P has slip from my bag during transport and hit hard surface causing a light bend (i had to collect almost all keycaps from the Street) and few keys dont work anymore or work only when pressed really hard.
Does it makes sense to send such damaged keyboard for warranty or i can forget about it?
Thank you in advance

So I had a talk with my father today he said during his youth( 80s-90s) during this period he and his brother did a sip on stock and all he remembered was the logo and first letter and the location of the company. So I found out the fiance service company and it seems like a mutual fund but the thing is he paid month 350rs which the agent use to collect and give him a slip. So I asked him the slip he said it's not there as there was a flood in mumbai during 2004, If I remember. So there are no slips of payment. So I asked him whether he gave his pan card while creating a account for mutual fund ( like we have demat account to trade now). He said during that time there was no pan card. Now how can I claim those sip. 350rs monthly for a time period of 3-5 years that to during 80s-90s while be a jackpot now. Please help!

So I had a talk with my father today he said during his youth( 80s-90s) during this period he and his brother did a sip on stock and all he remembered was the logo and first letter and the location of the company. So I found out the fiance service company and it seems like a mutual fund but the thing is he paid month 350rs which the agent use to collect and give him a slip. So I asked him the slip he said it's not there as there was a flood in mumbai during 2004, If I remember. So there are no slips of payment. So I asked him whether he gave his pan card while creating a account for mutual fund ( like we have demat account to trade now). He said during that time there was no pan card. Now how can I claim those sip. 350rs monthly for a time period of 3-5 years that to during 80s-90s while be a jackpot now. Please help!

So I had a talk with my father today he said during his youth( 80s-90s) during this period he and his brother did a sip on stock and all he remembered was the logo and first letter and the location of the company. So I found out the fiance service company and it seems like a mutual fund but the thing is he paid month 350rs which the agent use to collect and give him a slip. So I asked him the slip he said it's not there as there was a flood in mumbai during 2004, If I remember. So there are no slips of payment. So I asked him whether he gave his pan card while creating a account for mutual fund ( like we have demat account to trade now). He said during that time there was no pan card. Now how can I claim those sip. 350rs monthly for a time period of 3-5 years that to during 80s-90s while be a jackpot now. Please help!
Edit: Guys the name of the company was UTI mutual funds

So I had a talk with my father today he said during his youth( 80s-90s) during this period he and his brother did a sip on stock and all he remembered was the logo and first letter and the location of the company. So I found out the fiance service company and it seems like a mutual fund but the thing is he paid month 350rs which the agent use to collect and give him a slip. So I asked him the slip he said it's not there as there was a flood in mumbai during 2004, If I remember. So there are no slips of payment. So I asked him whether he gave his pan card while creating a account for mutual fund ( like we have demat account to trade now). He said during that time there was no pan card. Now how can I claim those sip. 350rs monthly for a time period of 3-5 years that to during 80s-90s while be a jackpot now. Please help!